


Walk on the Wild Side

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: Wild Side [1]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-24
Updated: 2007-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take a walk but don't get lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phone Call

_I know I can get it,_ Temperance Brennan thought as she pressed herself against the shelves. _I'm almost there. I can feel it, I just need-_

"Need a hand, Bones?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she spun round to face her partner, who was standing in her doorway with a grin on his face. She planted her hands on her hips with a scowl. "I am perfectly capable of getting a book down from a bookshelf on my own, Booth."

He raised his eyebrows and said, sarcastically, "Yeah, because you were doing so well so far." He walked over and started to easily reach for the book that had been eluding her.

Brennan slapped his hand away in annoyance, not wanting to admit defeat. "I told you, I can reach it on my own," she said, petulantly, pushing him away and turning her attention back to the shelves.

Booth raised his hands in surrender and stepped back slowly. "Just trying to help..." he said with a smile as he watched his partner stretch back up for the dusty black book.

His eyes couldn't help but move down as her shirt rode up, exposing the flawless skin on her lower back. His gaze travelled down again and dozens of inappropriate thoughts suddenly rushed through his head when she let out a small moan of frustration as her fingertips brushed the book. He took a deep breath, unsure of how much more he could listen to.

Brennan let out a gasp as she felt Booth's hand rest on her hip. She tried to turn round to protest, but realised that his body was pressed firmly against hers, pinning her between him and the bookshelf. Feeling his stomach muscles tighten as he stretched upwards, she immediately tried to banish any unprofessional thoughts and instead looked up, concentrating on the hand that was reaching for the book, not the one now nestled comfortably on her waist.

Booth slid the book off the shelf with ease and moved back slightly, letting out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. Brennan turned round and he noticed that her cheeks were flushed, although he wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment or her earlier exertions.

"I told you I could reach it," she said, softly.

"You're welcome," he replied, equally gently.

They stared at each other for a moment, both aware of their close proximity, but neither particularly wanting to move away.

Brennan was the first to break their gaze as she looked down to the book that Booth was still holding. "Um, I should really be getting on with my work now," she said without conviction as she reached for the book.

"Um, yeah, I just came by to, uh..." Booth's attention was suddenly distracted as he noticed the title of the book he was holding. He quickly stepped back out of his partner's reach, reading aloud with a mischievous smile on his face, "'Sexual Customs and Rituals of South American Tribes.' Bones, you never told me there was an adult section in your little anthropology library here."

She glared at him and tried to snatch the book back. "It's not pornography, Booth, it's a detailed anthropological study."

"Of sex," he added with a grin, waving the book at her.

She grabbed at it again and Booth backed away, laughing. "You are so immature," she said in what was supposed to be a serious tone, but she couldn't hide the small smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"Immature?" he said, with mock hurt, "I'm just trying to catch up on my anthropological reading here." He flicked the book open, teasingly, "Now, let's see..."

Not wishing to endure the taunting that would follow if he read that book, Temperance Brennan did something she rarely did. She acted on impulse. Lunging at Booth, she knocked him off balance onto the couch, pulling the book out of his hands as he fell.

However, she misjudged the effects of her own momentum. Unable to stop in time, she threw the book out of Booth's reach before she too tumbled on the couch, much to the surprise of the agent beneath her. He groaned as she landed hard on his chest, and her eyes widened in concern, "Booth, are you..."

She trailed off when they both heard someone clear their throat loudly in the doorway. Temperance sat up hurriedly as best she could, not realising that her legs were still astride her partner. Booth propped himself up on his elbows and looked over the back of the couch at the stunned artist standing by the door.

Angela Montenegro raised her eyebrows at the couple sprawled before her. She picked up the book that was lying at her feet and read the title, smirking. Looking back to the pair on the couch, she smiled wickedly, unable to resist, "Well, whatever works for you."

She watched in amusement as their mouths fell open when they realised just how compromising their position was. "Ange, we weren't-" Brennan began, at the same time that Booth protested, "It's not what-" Neither wanting to interrupt the other, they both fell silent.

Angela flashed them a large smile before teasing them further. "Well, I'll just let you get back to your, uh, _research_ ," she said, giving them a conspiratorial wink before dashing back out of the office.

Brennan looked down at Booth, unsure of what to say. "Uh, she's just, she didn't mean..." she ventured.

"Right," Booth said, nodding uncomfortably.

"Because we weren't..."

"Right."

"Research isn't... I mean, it wasn't..."

"Right."

"Good."

"Okay."

There was another awkward silence.

Booth shifted slightly. "Maybe we should, uh, you know, go do some, uh, work or something," he stammered, suddenly aware that he was still pinned to the couch.

Evidently Brennan realised at the same time and quickly dismounted, feeling the colour rush to her cheeks. "So, why did you come over?" she asked, unconsciously retreating behind her desk.

He got to his feet, unable to think of anything except Temperance Brennan on top of him on that couch. "I, um, I..." he mumbled, trying desperately to remember the reason. Suddenly it struck him. "I just wanted to see if you'd finished up your paperwork from the Silverman case."

She nodded and swiftly passed him a stack of papers. "That should be all of it."

Booth smiled, thankful for a reason to leave. "That's great," he said, backing towards the door. "I'll just sort this out back at the Bureau and I'll give you a call if I need anything else."

She gave him a small smile as he turned to leave but breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. Picking up the book that had caused all the problems, she turned to her computer screen to write the next chapter of her novel, trying to forget that she'd had Seeley Booth on the couch between her legs just a few minutes earlier.

* * *

Temperance had finally managed to concentrate on her book, when the phone rang loudly on her desk. Checking her clock, she saw to her surprise that it had been two hours since Booth left. Half hoping it would be him, she answered on the second ring, "Brennan."

"Dr Brennan, it's Deputy Director Cullen here. Agent Booth asked me to contact you."

She frowned in confusion, asking, "Is he alright?"

"He's fine, Dr Brennan. He asked me to inform you that he has been transferred to another department, and will no longer be working as liaison to the Jeffersonian," he said in a business-like manner.

Brennan nearly dropped the phone. "But he was here a few hours ago," she said, shocked by the news. "Why has he been transferred?"

"Agents are transferred at the discretion of the FBI," Cullen answered briefly.

"But, but why didn't he tell me this himself?" she asked, unable to believe that Booth would do this to her.

Cullen sighed impatiently. "He is no longer your partner, Dr Brennan, and as such he has no reason to contact you," he said coolly. "I will have another agent assigned to the Jeffersonian institute first thing tomorrow."

Before she could argue further, the phone went dead, leaving Brennan in stunned silence.


	2. Deception

The car door slammed shut and Rob Anderson walked quickly into the house he'd parked outside, looking around cautiously.

Seeley Booth remained sitting in the passenger seat of the car, watching his new partner go to meet his "informant" and wishing that he'd never got involved in this. He stared out of the window as the summer sun dipped behind the houses of one of DC's most unpleasant neighbourhoods, casting an eerie orange glow over the whole street.

It had been a whole week since he had left the Jeffersonian, and a whole week since he had seen Temperance Brennan. He had been with Cullen when he'd called to tell her of the transfer, and ever since he'd felt guilty for not telling her the truth. _She can't know,_ he reminded himself. _She'd only want to get involved. Plus, Cullen'll have my ass if I breathe a word of this to anyone._

He rested his head against the seat-back, remembering the phone call he'd received from her that night. He'd tried to reassure her, but he hadn't been allowed to tell her anything about where he was going, what he was doing, or even why he'd been transferred. Cullen had said that the official reason was that Booth himself had requested the transfer, but he knew that she would never have bought that.

 _I couldn't tell her anything,_ he thought sadly. _She was so worried, and I couldn't say anything better than "Sorry, Bones. It happens."_ He winced at the memory. _How the hell could I be so stupid?_ he asked himself in frustration. _My last chance to speak to her, put her mind at ease, and that's the best I come up with?_

Trying to ignore the thoughts that had been swirling round his mind all week, he checked his watch, wondering when to go in after Anderson.

 _Anderson._ _Not exactly my first choice of partner._ Booth had met guys like Anderson in the past and he'd despised every single one of them. He guessed that Anderson himself was in his early thirties, but from the way he acted, he could still be some drunken frat boy _. The whole group could be,_ he decided. _The drinking, the sex, the drugs..._ They were not the kind of people he enjoyed spending time around. _Hell, even the squints were better than these guys._

Before letting himself lapse into melancholy, he checked his watch again _. Five minutes should be plenty,_ he thought confidently, trying to hide his nerves about what he was going to do. _Now all I have to do is see Anderson get the drugs, then let him know that I know, and he should fold easily._ He got quickly out of the car, doing his best not to think about the gaping holes in his only plan.

Checking around him, he moved swiftly down the side of the house, pressed close against the wall and hidden by the long evening shadows. When he had nearly reached the back of the house, he peered carefully in the grimy window and was rewarded by the sight of Anderson talking to another man, who was standing with his back to the window. His attention focused on trying to hear the conversation, Booth was caught off-guard as a gun was held to the back of his head.

Slowly, he raised his hands in surrender, but did not feel the cool barrel move away from his head. Hoping to catch the gunman by surprise, he shifted his weight, ready to turn and grab the gun, but froze as a woman's voice said coldly, "Don't even try it."

The voice sounded familiar, but before he could identify it, he felt men's hands shoving him towards the back door and into the small house. He soon found himself in the room that he had been looking into earlier and he glanced up to see Rob Anderson watching at him with a smile on his face. Booth's gaze shifted to the man he had been talking to and his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

"Joe Mendez," he spat, angrily.

"The whole gang's here to meet you, Booth," Mendez said, smiling darkly as he was surrounded. Booth's heart sank as he recognised those around him as the dirty FBI agents he was trying to gather evidence on. _Rick Young, Heather White, Ana Lopez, Jackson Thomas, and the leader, Joe Mendez,_ he counted with disgust, fear growing in the pit of his stomach.

"What the hell's going on, Mendez?" he asked, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

Mendez made no reply but motioned to Young and Thomas, who were both at least as strong as Booth. He instinctively clenched his fists for a fight, but, feeling the gun press harder again his head, he didn't resist as the two agents pinned his arms tightly behind his back. He saw a woman move round to join Anderson and the others, holding a gun, and realised that the voice from outside had been that of Mendez's partner, Sophia King.

His attention was drawn back to his own partner as Rob Anderson began to walk towards him, speaking mockingly, "This is what happens when you spy on people."

Booth's eyes widened in realisation. "You planned this."

Anderson laughed. "You've been watching me every since you got transferred to Narco. We just wanted an opportunity to discuss your behaviour," he said, motioning to the group behind him.

Booth cursed himself silently for being so stupid. He'd overheard one of Anderson's earlier calls and guessed he was meeting a contact, so he'd waited till the last minute then asked for a ride home, claiming his car was in the shop. Anderson had agreed, but told him he needed to visit an informant, and Booth had offered to wait outside, hoping to catch him getting his new shipment of drugs. The possibility of a trap had never even crossed his mind.

Determined not to show weakness, he met his eyes. "So discuss."

Anderson chuckled softly, but swiftly pulled Booth's gun from its holster and smacked him across the face with it. As he cried out in pain, he forced the gun into Booth's mouth, causing him to gag as it touched the back of his throat. He met his eyes and spoke calmly, "We don't like being spied on, Booth. Especially by one of Cullen's lackies. Now, you got two choices. You can either tell us what you know, and then keep your mouth shut for the rest of your natural life, or I can put a bullet in your brain. Your call."

He paused for an answer, but the gun remained pressed against the roof of his mouth. Booth felt an irrational feeling of relief. _He's new at this,_ he realised. _I might just have a chance._ He made a half-hearted attempt to speak and Anderson pulled the gun out quickly, hoping to cover his mistake. "What'll it be?" he asked, waving the gun.

"I'm not working for Cullen," he lied, meeting Anderson's eyes and praying that he'd guessed right.

Anderson's hesitation told him that he had. "Then why were you watching me?" he asked, losing some of his original authority.

"Because I want in," Booth said boldly, looking past him to Mendez, who he knew was pulling all the strings.

Mendez raised an eyebrow. " _In_ what?" he asked, fully aware of what Booth was asking.

He took a deep breath. "I know what you're doing. You're working with the gang you were supposed to be convicting. Drugs brought in, evidence misplaced, charges dropped; whatever they want, you've done, and you're reaping the rewards," he said, pleased by Mendez's astounded expression. "I want in."

He shook his head. "You've got no proof of any of this."

Booth smiled. "If there was any proof, you'd all have been arrested by now. As it stands, you're doing pretty well for yourselves."

Anderson piped up again, "How do we know you're not working for Cullen?"

"Gun in my mouth not enough for you?" he replied, sarcastically, and Anderson looked down sheepishly.

After looking him up and down, Mendez nodded slowly, "Alright." He walked closer to Booth, who was still being held by the two agents. "But if I find out you're lying to me, I will break every single bone in your body."

He felt a flash of fear pass through him, but managed a cocky smile, "Good job I'm not lying then."

Mendez smirked and motioned to Young and Thomas, who promptly released Booth's arms and began to follow their leader out of the house. Booth rubbed his stiff shoulders as Anderson approached him, returning his gun. Before his partner could say anything, Booth landed a hard punch to his gut, doubling him over in pain. The rest turned suddenly, hearing the yelp of pain as he crashed to the floor.

Booth picked his gun up from where it lay by the fallen agent and walked towards the door, calling back, "Next time, use your own damn gun."

Satisfied, Mendez and the others left, not bothering to help the groaning Anderson. Holstering his gun and pulling his partner's car keys out of his pocket, Booth strode back outside, feeling his heartbeat slowly return to normal.

 _Well, I got what I came here for,_ he thought with relief as he got in the car. _Might not have been the way I wanted it to go down, but at least I'm in._ His relief turned quickly back to dread as he remembered what Cullen had told him the week before. _What exactly_ have _I got myself into?_


	3. Distraction

Temperance Brennan sat up straight in front of the keyboard, ready to begin typing, then sighed and rested her head in her hands, staring into space.

She had been unconsciously repeating the same routine for twenty minutes, a fact which had not gone unnoticed by her best friend observing silently from the doorway. Seeing the anthropologist slump in defeat for the ninth time, Angela spoke up, wanting to put her friend out of her misery, "How about you call it a night?"

She looked up in surprise. "Angela! I didn't hear you come in."

"You know me," she replied with a grin, "Stealthy as a fox. A fox who at this moment in time _really_ wants to go out drinking with her best friend." As she spoke she flashed what she hoped was a winning smile.

Brennan sighed again, and said, tiredly, "Ange, I'm working..."

Angela rolled her eyes, making a mental note to ask Booth for tips on winning smiles if she ever saw him again. "No, you're moping," she said, matter-of-factly, "There's a subtle but important difference."

"Angela, please," she began, stress now evident in her voice, "Would you just let me get on with my-"

"Moping? I've left you to mope on your own for three whole weeks now. I think it's safe to conclude that it really isn't working." Brennan opened her mouth to protest, but Angela was now in full flow, "This isn't healthy, Bren. You need to do something to take your mind off Booth, to get out of the office for a while. And since Agent Tightass isn't helping at all in that respect, I, as your best friend, am taking it upon myself to make you feel better."

A small smile crossed Brennan's face. "Agent Tightass?"

"You know, our helpful new FBI friend. Never lets you go out in the field, never does anything without _all_ the necessary paperwork, goes running to tell Cam every time Hodgins so much as mentions Spam..." She nodded decisively, "Agent Tightass."

Angela was pleased to see a genuine smile cross Brennan's face for the first time in the three weeks since Booth had gone. However, the smile quickly vanished to be replaced by the familiar look of despondency.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm really not up for this tonight," she said quietly, turning back to the computer.

Seeing that she was losing her, the artist resorted to her last-ditch attempt. "Do you really think Booth's this upset over leaving _you_?"

Temperance turned around to face her, taken aback by her comment. "What?"

"Come on, Bren," she said, walking towards her. "You know Booth isn't feeling the same way about you. If he did, he wouldn't have left you like that." Her voice softened slightly. "He hasn't even called to check up on you. You have to stop torturing yourself over this, honey. It honestly isn't worth it."

Her eyes filled with hurt and Angela immediately hated herself for being so harsh, but when she saw new resolution cross Brennan's face, she realised that she had finally got through to her.

"Let's go out, hmm?" she said gently, wanting to take her mind of Seeley Booth once and for all. "You might even hook up with some hot guy..." she added with a smile.

Temperance got to her feet slowly. "Alright, I'll come. But I am not going to 'hook up' with a man I've never even met before," she stated firmly as she slipped her coat on.

Angela linked arms with her and led her out of the office, smiling broadly, "Don't put yourself down, sweetie. You've just got to think positive."

Her protests were silenced as Angela quickened the pace out of the lab.

* * *

"See anything you like?" Angela shouted to her friend in what was possibly the quietest corner of the club.

Swallowing another mouthful of her drink, Brennan yelled back, "I've told you, I'm not looking for a boyfriend."

"Sugar, no-one here is looking for a boyfriend."

Both of them turned in surprise at the male voice and saw that an attractive guy with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes had sat down next to them.

"Wanna dance?" he asked Angela, giving her his most charming smile.

She hesistated, looking with concern at Brennan, who quickly yelled in her ear, "It's okay, I'm fine here."

"You sure?" she shouted back, not entirely convinced by her reassurance.

Temperance nodded confidently and a wide smile spread across Angela's face as she was led out into the sea of people, with the man's arm round her shoulders.

However, as she danced with him, she couldn't help but look over to the corner, where she now saw Brennan staring into her drink and looking miserable again. She moved in closer to her partner and shouted into his ear, "Hey, um, you got a friend?"

The guy looked down at her with a smile, his hands now resting on the top of her ass. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Angela rolled her eyes and pointed over to where Brennan was sitting, "For my friend."

The man's smile widened further, "Four-way?"

Amused by his persistence, she asked again, "Look, you got a friend or not?"

He nodded and yelled, "Somewhere."

"Great," Angela said, more to herself than to him, as she made her way back through the crowd, leading him behind her.

Temperance looked around the club, taking frequent sips of her drink as she observed the way people found possible partners in this environment. She caught sight of a man and a woman kissing hungrily against a wall and wondered briefly if actual procreation took place here as well.

Her attention was distracted as she saw Angela coming back over to her, dragging her fairly inebriated dance-partner behind her. "He's got a friend!" she called, excitedly.

Brennan shook her head and held her hands up in protest, but she was pulled to her feet by Angela's free hand, and before she knew it she was surrounded by people.

"He's his partner," Angela shouted in her ear as they followed the guy across the dancefloor, trying not to knock any drinks out of people's hands. "He says that they work together so he's probably really hot."

Temperance was still sober enough to know that Angela's logic was faulty, but before she could correct her, they emerged from the crowd of people and found themselves near the entrance. Angela's new friend yelled triumphantly, "Here he is."

The women both followed his gesture but were shocked to see that the guy's friend was one half of the pair Temperance had seen earlier, who thankfully hadn't moved past kissing and groping. Yet.

Angela put a reassuring hand on Brennan's shoulder and yelled to the guy, "Looks like your friend's already got lucky. You know anyone else?"

He frowned in confusion and looked back to his friend against the wall. "Why? What's wrong?"

"He's kinda busy!" she shouted, losing patience.

He waved his hand drunkenly, "I'll fix it."

They both raised their eyebrows incredulously as Angela's guy went over to his occupied friend and spoke into his ear. The friend then started speaking to his girl, while the blond man moved back to the women, shouting, "He's not busy anymore."

Angela shook her head in disgust, "No way!" Turning to Brennan, she yelled, "Let's go!" She started to turn back to the dancefloor but stopped when she realised her friend was staring at something.

She followed Brennan's shocked gaze and her own mouth fell open when she saw the guy's friend, who had left his girl and was now leaning drunkenly on his partner's shoulder. Seeing the lipstick on his cheek and the buttons that had been undone on his black shirt, Angela yelled in disbelief across the noisy club, "Booth?"


	4. Tired and Emotional

Rob Anderson's dark blue eyes widened when he heard the woman call his partner's name in shock. Turning to Booth, he asked, surprised, "You know these chicks?"

Booth squinted through his blurry vision, examining them both closely, before nodding drunkenly, "Yep."

Looking back at the stunned expressions on their faces, Anderson patted his friend on the shoulder. "Good luck, man," he yelled, before making a fast exit into the crowd of people. When he'd reached what he judged to be a safe distance, he glanced back to see Booth being half-led, half-dragged out of the club by the two women, and congratulated himself on getting out while he could.

Outside, Brennan watched Booth stumble to a halt, unable to believe what she had just witnessed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Angela yelled, clearly feeling the same way as Temperance.

"What the hell does it look like?" he shouted back, even though the street was silent.

"It looks like you're way past your limit," she said coldly. "What are you playing at, Booth? Was that jerk in there your partner? Who was that girl?"

He blinked for a moment as he tried to process all her questions. Finally he spoke, as coherently as he could manage, "Yes, that jerk is my partner. No, I have no idea who the girl was. And I was trying to get laid before you came along."

"What is wrong with you?" Angela asked in disgust.

He laughed, but, to Brennan, it seemed cold and unfamiliar. "Wrong?" he asked incredulously, taking a step forward. "What's wrong is that I just got dragged away from a _really_ hot girl to be pulled outside and given the third degree by people I don't even work with anymore!" Rant over, he took another step forward towards Angela with a strange glint in his eye that made Temperance's blood run cold.

"Although," he began, looking Angela up and down, "You could always make it up to me..."

The sound of her slap echoed loudly in the dark street and Booth staggered back, hand to his cheek, while Brennan's eyes widened in shock at what her friend just did.

Angela met her eyes and shook her head, at a loss as to what to do next. Taking a deep breath, Brennan stepped forward towards her former partner, speaking gently, "Booth, you shouldn't be acting like this. It isn't like you."

He snorted with laughter, "Not exactly like you either, is it, Temperance?"

She felt uneasy as he emphasised her first name but challenged, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he started, moving slowly towards her, "That I don't ever remember you coming out to places like this before. What's the matter? Bones not enough for you anymore?"

His words stung, but she tried to remain calm, "You're drunk. You just need to go and sleep it off."

"What do you care?" he spat back, angrily. "You're not my partner anymore. Why are you still bothering me?"

"Because we were friends," she said, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

"Do I look like I'm hurting myself?" he yelled, getting angrier. "I was having a good time! Remember those?" Suddenly realisation dawned on him and he lowered his tone, "Or maybe that's really why you got involved? Hmm, Temperance?" She frowned in confusion and he continued, cruelly, "Couldn't stand seeing me with someone else? Is that it?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was racing.

"That's it, isn't it?" he said triumphantly, "You think I don't know what was going through your mind all the time we were working together? Hell, most of the time I wanted to just throw you down on that big glowy table and do it there." He suddenly laughed sharply, making Brennan and Angela jump. "But there's only so long a guy can hold out, you know?"

"Is that why you left?" she asked bravely, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He moved in close to her, close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Are you surprised?" he retorted, meeting her eyes. "I'd have thought you'd be used to people leaving you. Your parents, your brother, all those boyfriends... I figured you'd have it down by now."

Temperance felt like she'd been slapped across the face. Involuntary tears began to well up in her eyes and she turned quickly away, not wanting to let him see her cry. Without looking back, she walked swiftly to one of the cabs idling further down the street, hearing Angela's high heels click on the pavement as she ran after her.

"Bren, wait!" she called, desperately. Catching up to her, she said, sympathetically, "Bren, I'm sorry..."

Temperance shook her head, ignoring the tears trickling down her cheeks. "You've got nothing to apologise for."

Angela put her arm round her, and spoke softly, "He didn't mean it. He's just drunk, and stupid, and, well, drunk. You know Booth would never mean to hurt you."

She laughed mirthlessly, "I think he's made it pretty clear that I _don't_ know him anymore." She met Angela's eyes, which were filled with compassion. Straightening, she wiped her tears away and spoke confidently, "I'm fine, Ange. I just want to get home."

"You want me to come with you?" Angela asked with concern.

"No, I just need to be on my own tonight," she said, sincerely. Giving her a slight smile, she added, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Her friend nodded and hugged her gently, "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetie."

Temperance sank into the cab and gave her address, feeling the tears fill her eyes again. She saw Angela getting into another taxi and gave her a half-hearted wave as she drove off. As she passed the entrance to the club, she looked instinctively for Booth, but wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad when she didn't see him.

Booth watched from the dark alley next to the club as the yellow taxi sped past with Temperance Brennan peering anxiously out of the back window. Leaning against the wall, he slid slowly to the ground, not paying any attention to the garbage littering the concrete.

His head was pounding and he felt nausea rising in his throat. Dragging himself back to his feet with a groan, he retched into an open dumpster, throwing up until he had nothing left in him. As he sank back to the floor, his head was spinning with all the events that had happened that night. Coming to the club with Anderson, dancing with the blonde girl, seeing Brennan and Angela, the argument... He felt sick again as he remembered the look of hurt on Temperance's face before she left.

He rested his head on his knees, wanting to make the memory go away. Booth didn't think he'd ever sobered up as quickly as this before and the hammering in his skull seemed to agree with him. _How the hell could I say that to her?_ he wondered, hating himself for it. _What's the matter with me? God, I sounded just like..._ He closed his eyes as it hit him. _Anderson._

Thinking back to the events of the last three weeks, Booth felt shame wash over him as he realised what he had done. _I needed to integrate with them,_ he told himself miserably. _But I never meant for it to go this far. I was supposed to observe, keep a level head, but I couldn't. And now..._ He put his head in his hands as the image of his former partner filled his mind once again.

Sudden determination filled him and he got to his feet, feeling the world spin as he did so. He knew he should go home and sleep it off, but his harsh words echoed constantly in his mind. Overwhelmed with guilt, he walked as quickly as he could out of the alley, desperate to find some way to fix what he'd done.

* * *

The clock next to the bed displayed 3.16am in bright green lights.

It had been over two and a half hours since Brennan had got out of the taxi and the pillow was still wet with her tears. She had made it back to her apartment before letting herself cry properly, but once she'd started, it was impossible to stop. Booth's words echoed constantly in her mind and the more she had thought about them, the more true they seemed.

Going to bed, she'd hoped that she would just fall asleep and be able to think again with a clear mind in the morning. But every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the cruel look on her ex-partner's face as he taunted her. She tossed and turned in her bed, getting more and more annoyed that she had let him get to her.

 _Why should I listen to him?_ she thought, trying her best to be rational. _I don't work with him anymore, he was very, very drunk, he doesn't know what he's talking about... Why am I upset over what he said? Why do I care about his opinions? Why am I still thinking about him_? Again and again, she asked herself the same questions, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept answering. _Because he's Booth._

She was strangely glad when she heard a noise by her front door, and jumped quickly out of bed, happy to be distracted from her thoughts. Grabbing the baseball bat from under her bed, she slowly made her way into the main area of the apartment, half hoping that it was an intruder, just so that she would be able to take out her frustration on someone.

She stopped when she heard the supposed intruder knock firmly on the door. Still holding the bat in one hand, she unlocked the door and opened it on the chain, looking out through the small gap.

The bat clattered to the floor as she saw a dishevelled Booth standing outside her door, looking down at the floor in shame. Seeing the door open, he met her eyes and asked quietly, "Can I come in?"


	5. Apology Accepted

Brennan said nothing in response to Booth's question, leaving him standing uncomfortably outside her door while hundreds of different thoughts whirled through her mind.

Part of her wanted to throw the door open without a second's hesistation, letting him explain that it was all a bad dream and that he would never really say that to her. But the more logical part of her, the part that remembered every single word of what he'd said, wanted to slam the door in his face and never speak to him again.

Doing her best to control both impulses, she looked at him through the gap in the door and spoke levelly, "What are you doing here?"

He answered quietly, looking down, "I need to talk to you."

Her mouth tightened into a thin line as the logical part of her won out. "I think you've said enough for one night," she said coldly. "Leave me alone, Booth."

She moved to shut the door, but he stuck out a hand to stop her, speaking loudly, "Please, Bones, would you just let me explain?"

An irrational fear came over her as he raised his voice and she felt her heart start to beat faster in her chest. Trying not to show that he'd startled her, she ordered calmly, "Let go of the door." He shook his head pleadingly, wanting her to listen, but all she saw was his refusal. "Let go!" she yelled, angrily.

Surprised at her reaction, Booth stepped back, raising his hands in apology, "Bones, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just-" He was cut off as the door slammed shut. He banged on it desperately, shouting through to his former partner, "Bones, please! Please, just hear me out! Open the door!"

Inside, Brennan sank to the floor, her back against the wall and her head in her hands. Fresh tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she heard his shouts travel through the door. She sat, motionless, while she listened to the pounding die down and his voice become quieter.

Leaning against the wall outside, Booth stopped hammering the door, defeated. Cursing himself for being stupid enough to yell at her, he spoke gently, "Temperance, I'm sorry." Getting no response, he continued, hoping she was still listening, "Look, you don't need to forgive me - God knows I don't deserve it after what I said to you - but you need to know that I'm sorry. I never-" He took a deep breath. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just drunk and angry..."

He trailed off, knowing how pathetic his excuses sounded. Closing his eyes, he said, honestly, "I know that's no justification for what happened, but I don't know what else to tell you." He sighed, speaking more to himself now than to her, "I should never have left the Jeffersonian. I thought I could handle it, that they wouldn't get to me, but after tonight..."

He straightened up and addressed her again, sadly. "I'm sorry, Bones. I'm sorry for everything I said before and I'm sorry for coming here tonight. I just..." He searched for some reason to explain his presence, but couldn't find one and shook his head in defeat. "I'll go," he said, quietly, turning to leave.

As he did so, he heard the last words of the argument echo again in his mind, _I'd have thought you'd be used to people leaving you. Your parents, your brother, all those boyfriends..._ Unable to leave without telling her the truth, he moved back and whispered through the door, not expecting her to be listening anymore, "I didn't leave because of you, Temperance. I'd never have left if I'd had the choice."

Having nothing else to say, he walked slowly towards the staircase, his head still throbbing from the alcohol wearing off. As he reached the door to the stairwell, he heard a voice call from down the corridor, "Why did you leave?"

Turning round, he saw Brennan standing outside her door, dressed only in a thin negligee with a heavy jacket thrown hurriedly round her shoulders to preserve some dignity. His heart broke when he saw that her eyes were swollen with tears, not knowing that it was possible to feel more guilty than he already did. She repeated her question, oblivious to the tears falling down her cheeks, "If it wasn't my fault, then why did you leave?"

Booth faced her, shaking his head in regret, "I can't tell you, Bones, you know I can't. It's confidential-"

Anger blazed in her eyes and she yelled, "I don't care! For the last three weeks, you've not called me once, just left me to imagine the worst. And now, tonight, after the way you treated me, how can you have the nerve to shut me out again? I don't care how "confidential" it is, Booth! You tell me the truth, or else you'll prove that everything you told me just now was a lie."

She stopped, almost daring him to refuse, and was slightly taken back when he nodded, reluctantly. "Alright," he said in a low voice. "I'll tell you but not out here."

Looking round, Brennan suddenly became aware they were standing in front of her neighbours' doors and she made a mental note to apologise in the morning. Quickly, she walked back into her apartment, Booth following swiftly behind her. As soon as she heard him close the door, she turned to face him, arms folded. "Tell me."

He ran his hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the situation. "If anyone finds out about this..."

"You think I'd tell?" she asked, insulted.

Booth shook his head unconvincingly, "No, but with Angela, and the squints at the lab..."

"I won't tell anyone, Booth," Brennan said impatiently.

He looked at her, not completely reassured, but started speaking anyway, avoiding her gaze, "That day when I left, I got called to a meeting with Cullen. He told me that an agent named Joe Mendez was taking vacation time this Friday."

She wrinkled her brow, "How is that relevant?"

"Would you let me finish? Mendez is a well-known agent, works mostly Narcotics cases and has been doing for years. Every six months, he and a bunch of other Narco agents take a vacation at the same time with their girlfriends. No-one really knows where they go, but everyone knows what they do." He paused and she raised her eyebrows for him to elaborate. "Well, it's essentially what they do on a daily basis but on a larger scale - sex, drink, drugs, the usual."

"Drugs?" she asked with surprise. "Shouldn't they be arrested for that?"

Booth gave a slight smile. "There's a policy of turning a blind eye to recreational use, particularly with the Narco guys. Cullen figured that as long as they can still do their job, and do it well, then there's no point in hauling them in for it."

"I still don't understand where you're going with this," she sighed, frustrated. "What does this have to do with you leaving the Jeffersonian?"

"I'm getting there. When Cullen pulled me in for this meeting, he said he was getting worried that Mendez might be more involved with the drug gangs than he'd thought. He showed me a stack of cases where evidence had been lost, or charges had mysteriously been dropped, and Mendez, or one of his friends, had been lead agent. Obviously there was no direct proof, but enough to make him suspicious."

He stopped again and saw that Brennan was now concentrating fully on the story. "This is where I came in. He found out that Mendez is staying on the coast somewhere in Maryland from Friday and he reckons that he's bringing in drugs for one of the gangs he's been undercover with. Now, Cullen can't just arrest Mendez and his buddies, because all he's got is a hunch, and he can't set up a sting for this weekend because the people he's after work at the FBI, and so are going to have contacts everywhere." Booth took a deep breath. "So he sent me in undercover."

Brennan's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"He got me transferred to Narco, and partnered with one of Mendez's known associates. My job was to become friends with him, and then integrate with the group as a whole, with the aim of being invited along on this little vacation with them." He gave Brennan a small smile. "And that's what I've done. When I'm there, I'm supposed to see whether they get the drugs, and if they do, I'm to give Cullen the heads up. He'll show up with the team, arrest us all, then get collect the evidence needed to convict them."

"Why you?" she asked in confusion. "There's hundreds of agents he could've chosen. Why pick you?"

"Because he thought I could handle it," Booth answered simply. "He thought that I was capable enough to spend three weeks straight hanging out with these guys without forgetting what I was there for." He looked down. "I thought I could too. I saw what they were like and I honestly thought that I could keep my head and not end up like the rest of them." He shook his head sadly. "Guess tonight proved us both wrong."

"What you were doing tonight, before we met you, I mean... Was that normal? Is that what you've been doing for the last three weeks?" she asked, unable to believe that Booth would do that.

He nodded, ashamed. "Almost every night, it seems like. Different clubs, different women... I tried to avoid it at first, but every time I said no to something, they shut me out. I managed to steer clear of the drugs, but the drinking and the womanising... It was like they were testing me, making sure that I was in this with them, so I had no choice but to play along." He met her eyes. "But I went too far. What I said to you was way out of line."

"But you realise that," she said gently. "I'm not saying I'm happy about what happened, but at least you know that you shouldn't have done it. The rest of them wouldn't even care."

"Bones, I'm not trying to make excuses here," he said, earnestly. "I'm not telling you this to make myself feel better, I'm telling you because you asked."

"Exactly," she said with a smile. He raised his eyebrows in bewilderment so she explained further, "You listened to me. Even though you're probably not supposed to, you told me the truth about why you left." She gave him a warm smile. "It's just nice to know that you still care about me."

He gave her a genuine smile for the first time that night. "Of course I care about you, Bones. Do you think I would've walked four miles to apologise if I didn't?"

"You walked?" she asked incredulously, barely able to hide a smile.

"I lost my wallet," he said with a guilty grin.

"And you couldn't have waited till morning to see me?"

"No," he said sincerely, meeting her gaze. "Listen, I really am sorry, Bones. For tonight and for not telling you about the undercover operation. I'll call Cullen first thing in the morning and tell him I want out. I'll be back at the Jeffersonian by the end of the week."

"No!" she said firmly.

Booth dropped his eyes to the floor again. "You're right. Of course you don't want me back. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-"

"No," she interrupted, "I meant that you can't pull out of the undercover mission. The vacation's only in two days, right?"

"Yeah, Bones, but I can't do this anymore. You saw what I was like before - I don't want to risk that again."

"Neither do I," she said confidently.

"Well, we're agreed then?" he asked, unsure of what she was getting at.

"Look, Booth, the only reason you started acting like that is because you were around these men all the time. It's classic reflective behaviour. If a whole group is acting a certain way, the best method of integration is to behave in a similar fashion, thereby gaining acceptance and avoiding alienation. Therefore the only way to maintain your own individual and desirable characteristics is to have an outside influence that will help to ground you in normality."

He blinked, feeling his head start to spin again. "Huh?"

Sighing, she attempted to simplify, "If you spend too much time alone with them, you're going to start behaving like them."

"I'd already established that, thanks Bones. That would be why I'm pulling out and _avoiding_ spending time with them," he said slowly, wondering why she was so confused.

"So you're just going to let them get away with importing illegal drugs?" she asked, exasperated.

"I don't see how I have much choice," he replied, equally exasperated.

Brennan smiled. "You need to go to Maryland this weekend." He opened his mouth to protest but she continued, "But you need to take someone with you to stop you if you go too far."

"How the hell am I going to do that? I can't exactly take a minder with me."

Her smile broadened. "No, but you can take a girlfriend."

Booth frowned. "I don't have a girlfriend," he said, utterly lost. "Who would I..." He trailed off as he saw her smiling innocently at him and he shook his head in disbelief as realisation dawned on him.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."


	6. Persuasion

Temperance Brennan's eyes lit up and Booth could see that her mind was already racing through the possibilities.

Hoping to rein her back in, he stated firmly, "Bones, you are not coming undercover with me."

She planted her hands on her hips, "Why?"

He raised his eyebrows and repeated incredulously, "Why? First off, you're not even FBI."

"Surely that's a good thing," she countered before he could continue. "If the people you're after work at the FBI, then it would be easier to take someone they wouldn't know."

He hated to admit it, but she had a point. Still shaking his head, he tried another approach, "Bones, they're going to find out who you are - Anderson saw me leaving the club with you tonight."

She waved away his complaint. "Well, we're supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? For all he knows, we went home to have sex."

Trying not to succumb to the mental picture that sprang into his head, he argued, "Yeah, but we didn't exactly look much like a couple. Plus, I seem to remember Angela dragging me out of there as well."

She shrugged, not seeing the problem, "Just say that we had a..." She searched for the word. "Threesome?"

Booth did a double-take. "One of us is still very drunk and till now I was pretty sure it was me."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, if you have a problem with that story then come up with another, but I'm certain that you can find some way to explain me being your girlfriend." She hesistated, asking, "Unless there's another reason you don't want me to come?"

"Yes, there's another reason, Bones!" he said, quickly trying to think of one. "It's dangerous!" Seeing her unimpressed expression, he spoke more seriously, "These guys aren't exactly the most trusting of people - I had a gun held in my mouth before they'd tell me anything. There's no way they're going to let you tag along when they don't know what you're like."

"I thought you said everyone brought a girlfriend with them," she said in confusion, her plan momentarily thwarted.

"Yes, but most of their girls are agents who are just as crooked as they are," he replied, hoping she'd let it go.

"But your partner, Anderson? He didn't seem like he had a girlfriend when he was with Angela tonight."

Booth smirked, "They're not really in what you'd called exclusive relationships, Bones. But you're right, Anderson's not got a girlfriend at the minute." She opened her mouth but he pre-empted her question, "He'll end up taking some party girl he picked up a few hours before. Either that or he'll hire a hooker for the weekend."

She looked appalled by this statement, but her eyes widened as she realised its implication, "Is that what you're planning on doing? Hiring a prostitute or taking some woman like the one you were with tonight?"

He looked down guiltily, clearly hoping she wouldn't have made that connection. "I know it sounds bad, but that's my best option. The whole gang's going out tomorrow-" He checked his watch and corrected himself. "Tonight, and I'll find a girl there. I can't afford to arouse suspicion..."

"I'm not suspicious!" Brennan objected, indignantly.

He raised his eyebrows. "No offense, Bones, but you're not really going to blend in with the rest of them."

"Of course I can," she said confidently. "That's the role of an anthropologist - to blend in and observe another culture without distorting it by one's presence."

Booth sighed, frustration rising. "This isn't some anthropological observation! You can't come undercover with me, Bones; Cullen'll never agree to it and I don't want to put you in that situation with these people."

"Cullen won't pull you out now, even if you tell him that you're taking me, so don't even try to pin it on him," she said, still determined to get her own way. "And I can't believe you're choosing a whore over me."

"Dammit, Temperance, I am not choosing a whore over you! There is no choice to make!" His tone softened slightly as he explained, "These guys aren't the most respectful to women at the best of times, and this weekend will end up being like some long drunken frat party. Nothing too heavy, just lots of immature games and comments. Now, the women that are going don't seem to mind this; in fact, they probably enjoy it just as much as their boyfriends do, but I am not willing to put you through that."

"I'm not asking for this for myself, Booth," she said seriously. "You said it yourself, you need someone there with you, and I would rather be there with you this weekend than let you end up like you were a few hours ago."

"Bones, I told you that won't happen again-"

"How can you be sure?" she demanded before asking, honestly, "Please, Booth. Let me help you."

Looking in her eyes, he saw that she was completely earnest and he felt his willpower slowly slipping away. "Alright," he said reluctantly, and he saw a large smile spread across her face as she got the answer she'd been hoping for. "You can have a trial run tonight. I'll come by about 7.30 and make sure you look the part, then I'll take you to meet the rest of them." He looked her in the eyes, deadly serious, "You can't mention this to anyone, Bones. If word gets back to Mendez that I'm undercover, then I'm a dead man, you understand me?"

She nodded mutely, still pleased that he trusted her to help him. He gave her a small smile and said, "Ask Cam for vacation time when you get to the lab. Tell her you're going away somewhere out of reach, so that no-one'll call you from Friday." She nodded again and he started to walk towards the door, "I'll see you at 7.30."

As he opened the door, she called quietly, "Booth!" He turned and she gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks for letting me in on all this. It means a lot- I mean, I'm really-"

"You're welcome, Bones," he replied, cutting her off with a grin. "Goodnight."

He closed the door softly behind him and Temperance smiled, all previous anger towards him forgotten as she now realised that he trusted her with his life. Slipping the bulky jacket off her shoulders, she hung it back up and headed for the bedroom, her bare feet padding gently on the cold wooden floor. She stopped when she heard a quiet knock on the door.

Opening it, she was surprised to find Booth standing there, running his hands through his hair sheepishly. "Listen, I'm sorry to bother you again," he began, embarrassed, "But since I lost my wallet, I kind of don't have any way to get home." He glanced up at her, awkwardly. "I mean, I could walk, but it's a good ten miles, and I was wondering if there was any chance, not that you have to, because I'd understand if you didn't want-"

Knowing what he was struggling to ask, she stepped to the side, opening the door. "Yes, you can stay, Booth."

A relieved smile spread across his face and he walked back inside, thankful to avoid the walk. Taking off his shoes, he saw Brennan head back into the bedroom and he lay down on the couch, feeling his feet and his head aching from the night's exploits. Closing his eyes, he jerked up suddenly when he felt something soft brush against his arms, looking up to see that Brennan had just deposited a blanket over him and was holding a spare pillow.

"Bones, you didn't have to..." he started, surprised that she hadn't just gone straight back to bed.

She gave him a tired yet playful smile as she dropped the pillow behind his head. "Couldn't let my _boyfriend_ get cold out here, could I?" she said teasingly, before turning sleepily back to her room and calling, "Goodnight Booth."

As she walked away, Booth couldn't help but watch as the silk of her negligee brushed lightly against the back of her thighs, and the earlier mental picture quickly resurfaced. Sighing, he lay back down, trying his hardest to forget that Temperance Brennan had recently mentioned the word "threesome," and wondering how he was ever going to make it through this weekend.


	7. Persuasion

"Just a minute!"

Brennan's voice carried through the wooden door and Booth smirked from his position in the hallway. _Why do women always take so long to get ready?_ he wondered in amusement. _Doctor, anthropologist, best-selling author, and it still takes her hours._ He glanced down at the black jeans, jacket and dark red shirt that'd he thrown on before arriving at her apartment at 7.30pm precisely. _How can it take so long to get dressed?_ He sighed. _She probably won't be wearing the right thing anyway. I'll probably end up going back in there with her and..._

As the door swung open, Booth's mouth dropped open in surprise and he quickly changed his opinion on exactly what he'd like to go back in there and do with her.

Seeing his shock at what she was wearing, Brennan asked, uncertainly, "Is this okay?"

Booth nodded mutely, still astounded by her outfit. The deep blue dress clung perfectly to every curve, shimmering slightly as she moved. His eyes travelled down from the dark straps over her delicate shoulders to the teasingly low neckline, and then down to her hips where the dress hung loosely, allowing the light tassels on the hem to brush gently against her thighs. Lifting his eyes back up to her face, he spoke softly. "Bones, you look..." he shook his head and gave a slight smile, "Amazing."

The worry disappeared from her face and she returned the smile, relieved at his approval.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, slowly regaining his senses.

"I bought it today." He raised his eyebrows and she elaborated, "Well, I saw what people were wearing at the club last night and so it seemed reasonable that I would be expected to wear similar attire tonight. Nothing I owned filled the criteria so I bought this during my lunch-break."

"You didn't need to buy a new dress," he protested on principle. "We could've used what you have."

"Booth, you have enough on your mind without worrying about what I'm wearing," she said firmly.

Not wanting to admit that what she was wearing was the only thing on his mind at the moment, he quickly changed the subject, becoming more business-like, "I spoke to Mendez today and told him I was bringing you along tonight. He didn't seem to mind, but..."

"But what?" she asked, insistently.

Unwilling to discuss a confidential undercover operation in the hallway, Booth placed a hand on her hip and guided her into the apartment, closing the door behind them. He met her eyes and spoke earnestly, "Listen, Bones, I'm really not so sure about you coming with me on this."

"But we agreed!" she said in annoyance. "We decided that this was best. You said-"

"I know what I said, Bones," he interrupted, trying to regain control of the situation. "But that was before I spoke to Mendez."

"You just told me he didn't mind!"

"No, I said he didn't _seem_ to mind."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "It's hardly much of a difference, Booth!"

"That's what I thought until I talked to Anderson this afternoon," he said, seriously. Getting no response from Brennan, he continued, "He told me that Mendez doesn't like bringing strange women out with the group. He doesn't mind us picking up girls when we're out, or taking ones that he trusts, but he's very suspicious of newcomers. Apparently he needs some kind of proof to make sure they're the "right type", whatever that means."

She nodded, understanding why he was so worried. "What sort of proof?" she asked, slightly afraid to hear the answer. "Couldn't you just vouch for me?"

"It doesn't work like that," he answered, grimly. "Especially since I'm still the new guy. I did try to find out what he wanted but no-one would tell me anything; Mendez just said I should meet them at the Silver Fox at 8 and bring my girl with me." Seeing her reaction, he added, "His words, not mine."

"The Silver Fox?" Brennan asked, studiously ignoring the "my girl" comment.

Booth looked down, uncomfortably. "It's off K Street somewhere. I've been once before with Anderson and Young." He met her eyes, almost wincing as he spoke, "It's a strip club."

Her eyes widened, but she replied calmly, "Do you think that's what he means by a test? See how I react to being in a strip club with you and the rest of them?"

Surprised by her reaction, he spoke uncertainly, "Uh, yeah, maybe. Knowing Mendez, I'd have thought it'd be something more, but you could be right."

"Well, we should get going then," she said, reaching for her coat.

She didn't get far before Booth moved in front of her, blocking her way. "Whoa, slow down there, Bones." When he'd got her attention, he said, gently, "You don't need to do this, you know. I know what you said last night, but I'm worried about you."

"I know you are," she replied softly, her eyes fixed on his, "But I'm worried about you too. At least this way we've both got someone looking out for us."

Slightly reassured, he nodded and said, somewhat reluctantly, "Let's go." Giving him a grateful yet anxious smile, she started to pull on her usual brown jacket but stopped when she saw a large grin spread across Booth's face. "I knew it!" he said, triumphantly. "You had me going for a minute there, what with that dress and the lipstick and those shoes, but I knew there'd be something!"

She looked down at herself, perplexed by his outburst. "What are you talking about?"

"You!" he said, still sounding smug. "You manage to go against every practical and sensible impulse in your body to get dressed up like this, with the high and the short and the low..." He gestured to her shoes, hemline and neckline respectively. "And you almost make it through the door in this risqué little outfit, but then you fall at the last hurdle." He gave her a cocky smile. "I knew there was a reason I was here."

He tugged the heavy coat firmly off her arms, while she tried to follow everything he'd just said. "Hurdle?" she eventually asked, confused.

Giving her a patient smile, he waved the coat in front of her. "Just couldn't fight those instincts, huh? We're going to a club, Bones, not the Arctic."

"I didn't want to be cold," she said, pouting slightly at his teasing.

"Well, that would be lesson one in how to blend in tonight," he said, slipping his own jacket off. "If you want something, you get it from your man." Flashing his most disarming smile, he slid the dark jacket around her shoulders with practised ease, before stepping back and looking at her. "Perfect."

"This is ridiculous, Booth," she protested. "It's not like I can't look after myself without a man to help me. Plus," she added, pointing accusingly at him, "You're going to get cold now."

The patient smile returned. "I am fully aware you can look after yourself, Bones, which is why I am giving you these handy hints on how to act like you can't. _Plus_ ," he echoed, mockingly, "Men don't get cold. It's a scientifically proven fact."

If it had been anyone else Temperance would have refuted the claim, but she instead settled for the sarcastic response, "What, does all that testosterone keep you warm?"

"Yep." He smiled broadly as he put his arm round her shoulders and led her out of the apartment, but couldn't resist adding, "It's great for getting ready on time too." She elbowed him playfully in the stomach as she moved to lock the door and he groaned in mock pain, "Lesson two, don't beat up your boyfriend in public."

She turned round to face him, her back to the door, and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so I can beat you up in private then?"

Booth gave her a wicked smile and said with a wink, "Not on the first date, Bones." Her mouth fell open at his comment, but before she could reply, he'd already started walking back down the corridor. She ran as quickly as she could to catch up with him, wondering why people who weren't undercover would ever choose to buy six-inch stilettos.


	8. Trust

The first thing Brennan noticed as she entered the Silver Fox was that strippers made up a large proportion of six-inch stiletto buyers.

The majority of the club was dark, with dim blue lights lining the walls, but the central platform was brightly lit, drawing attention to the dancers on it. She watched with detached fascination as they moved in time to the music, but she couldn't help focusing on their towering heels, which she guessed were used to their legs look even longer.

 _That amount of pressure on the balls of the feet is not healthy,_ she thought to herself, while Booth gently guided her round the darkened walkway at the edge of the room. _The shoes cause an altered posture, making the behind stick out further, which I suppose would be beneficial in this line of work... But it'll ultimately put pressure on the lower back vertebrae. Not to mention exposing any knee conditions and shortening the Achilles' tendon, as well as damaging muscles in the feet and..._

She was snapped out of her thoughts as Booth leaned in and whispered in her ear, "There they are."

Distracted from the possible joint problems of strippers, Brennan followed his gaze as they approached a group of people sitting around a small extension of the raised platform. As they got nearer, she was able to identify some of them from what Booth had told her on the way there.

Firstly, she recognised Rob Anderson, with his deep blue eyes already fixed firmly on one of the young, blonde waitresses. Scanning round the group, she saw two men sitting with their arms round their girlfriends, and she guessed that they were Rick Young and Ana Lopez with Jackson Thomas and Heather White, but she couldn't distinguish between the two couples. Joe Mendez was sitting confidently in the middle of the group, his authority reasserted by his position. His hand rested lazily but possessively on the lap of the woman next to him, and Brennan deduced that she was his partner, Sophia King.

Booth spoke into her ear again, barely audible above the heavy bass pounding from the speakers, "You ready for this?" She nodded, still watching Mendez and his partner. "If you want out, just slap me and go," he reminded her with concern, "I'll cover it, just get out if it goes too far." She nodded again, feeling her heart start to beat faster as they reached the group.

"Booth," Mendez said with a smile as he stood up to shake Booth's hand. "And this must be..."

"Temperance," Booth answered quickly, before Brennan could say anything, "Temperance Brennan."

Mendez extended a hand to Brennan and she took it firmly. However, she was taken aback when he raised her hand to his mouth, and kissed it slowly. She instinctively tensed up, but remembered who she was supposed to be and managed a small smile as Booth gave her waist a slight squeeze of reassurance.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr Mendez," she said in as calm a tone as she could manage.

He released her hand and smiled leeringly at her. His dark eyes trailed over her body and he nodded his head appreciatively, "Call me Joe."

"Pleasure to meet you, _Joe_ ," she repeated, her voice lower and huskier.

Chuckling softly, Mendez waved a hand towards a large chair near his own. "Please, sit down. Enjoy the entertainment."

Glancing up at Booth for confirmation, Brennan edged past the watching couples to take her seat. She sank into a large leather chair and felt her partner slide in beside her, his arm effortlessly draped around the seat behind her. Looking over to him, she saw his gaze was firmly fixed on the platform in front of them, where a busty brunette woman was starting to remove her shirt.

Without taking his eyes off the platform, he whispered, "Eyes forward, Bones." She did as he said and saw that the stripper was now walking around the edge of the platform, her knee-high boots pounding the floor in time to the loud music. Booth spoke again, his head tilted towards hers, "Mendez is watching how you react."

Understanding his meaning, Brennan let a slight smile play across her mouth as the stripper's flimsy bra was discarded. She leaned in closer to Booth, running her hand down his leg and whispering intimately to him, "Does he look satisfied?"

Trying to forget that her hand was moving slowly back up his leg, he flicked his eyes over towards Mendez, seeing that he was still watching Temperance with interest. "Not yet," he murmured, smiling as though at something she had said.

She moved her arm behind him, running her fingers through his hair as the woman in front of them began to undo her skirt, arching her body backward. Brennan nestled into Booth's chest as the tiny piece of material dropped to the floor and spoke again, "Is this any good?"

Feeling his skin tingle as her fingers traced a path through his hair, he whispered softly, "Yeah, that's good."

The moment was interrupted by Mendez's accusatory call, "What're you two whispering about?"

Sitting upright again, Brennan looked at the leader with a sultry smile and spoke in a low voice, "Just saying what I'm gonna do when I get him home tonight." Booth's heart skipped a beat at her comment, but he managed a cocky shrug when Mendez looked at him for confirmation.

A dark smile spread across the older man's face as he addressed Temperance, "Why wait?"

Keeping a smile fixed on her face, she raised her eyebrows, "What?"

"Well, from how closely you were watching Candy up there, you must have picked up a couple of moves," he said, a disturbing glint in his eye. "Show us what you can do."

Booth leaned forward, wanting to punch him for even suggesting it, but did his best to act casually, "Whoa, Mendez, let's give me something to look forward to when I get home, okay? She's taking her clothes off for me tonight, not the rest of you."

Mendez's partner, Sophia King, met his eyes, "Come on, Seeley, you always liked to share..."

He swallowed hard, but still shook his head firmly, "She's not doing it, Mendez."

"Says who?" Temperance interrupted suddenly, and both men looked at her in surprise. She got to her feet and faced Mendez, speaking confidently, "The stripping is saved for later, but I'm sure I can find some way to... entertain you." He paused, but then gestured for her to proceed. Flashing him a quick wink, she turned to Booth, and said simply, "Enjoy."

As if on cue, a new, slower song started and Booth watched in astonishment as Brennan stood in front of him, her hips instinctively swaying to the drum beat. His jacket slid off her shoulders and the first line of the song seemed to echo his thoughts, _I've never known a girl like you before._

She turned away from him and threw her head back, letting her hair tumble down between her shoulder blades while her body continued to move gracefully. Glancing back, she gave him a slight smile and slipped her fingers under her dress strap, letting it fall smoothly off her shoulder. As the guitar rhythm vibrated through the floorboards, she took four purposeful steps towards him, her stilettos causing her to sashay in time to the music.

Now standing between his legs, she turned away again and bent slowly to the floor. Booth felt his heartbeat quicken as her dress rode up, exposing the tops of her black lacy suspenders. She raised herself back up, her ass brushing against his legs as she did so, while the lyrics began again, _You give me just a taste so I want more._

The tassels on her dress shook as she moved her hips in small circles, gradually facing her speechless partner again. She met his eyes and smiled, before planting her high-heel hard on the chair between his legs, inches away from his groin. There was an intake of breath from the whole group, who were now all watching her with interest.

The song continued, _Now my hands are bleeding and my knees are raw,_ and Brennan pushed herself up to stand fully on the chair towering over Booth. His eyes travelled up her long legs as she repositioned her feet either side of his hips, and he saw another flash of her upper thighs as she reached up and ran her hands through her hair again, _'Cause girl, you got me crawling, crawling on the floor._

Booth suddenly became thankful for the concealing nature of his seated position when she started to lower herself down, her knees astride his hips. She slipped the other strap of her dress off her shoulder as the words to the song played loudly, _You made me acknowledge the devil in me._ Her inner thighs were now pressed against his waist and Booth's breathing became short as her hips continued to sway in time, causing him to feel every part of her movement.

She trailed a hand down his chest and looked him in the eyes. Realising what she wanted, Booth slid one hand onto her ass and the other onto her shoulder blade, meeting with no resistance from Brennan. In one swift move, he pulled her in close to him, and kissed her gently on the lips. Together they sank back into the chair, Brennan on top of Booth, and the kiss deepened as the song repeated, _Never known a girl like you before._

They broke apart when they heard a loud, slow, clapping sound, and sat up to find Mendez nodding appreciatively. "Well done, Temperance," he said, impressed by her performance. Facing Booth, he added, "You can have her with you tomorrow." Satisfied with what he'd seen, he turned his attention to the remaining member of the group, "Anderson, you found a girl for tomorrow yet?"

Brennan and Booth paid no attention to the rest of the conversation, both feeling relief wash over them at Mendez's approval. Still trying to seem like a couple, Brennan moved off his lap but remained by his side, his arm around her back, and whispered gratefully, "Thank you for the kiss. I didn't think I could keep going for much longer."

"No problem, Bones," he replied softly, trying to think of the kiss as a friendly favor and not as the best part of his evening. Changing the subject, he asked curiously, "Where did you learn to dance like that?"

She grinned and said simply, "Sexual Customs and Rituals of South American Tribes."

"It's a how-to guide?" Booth asked incredulously.

Brennan shook her head, still smiling, "No, but it does detail several practices which I observed as part of my doctorate."

"Observed? No way," he said confidently. "By the way you moved, you've definitely done that before."

"That's none of your business," she replied, teasingly.

"But we're partners," he protested, with a persuasive smile and a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. "We can't keep secrets from each other. That would just be wrong, and cruel, and..." He trailed off seeing her expression. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

She shook her head and said, mockingly, "Lesson one, don't expect to know everything about your girlfriend."

Ignoring his indignant expression, she turned her attention back to the group. Booth stared at her for a second longer, shaking his head and wondering if he was ever going to be able to look at Temperance Brennan in the same way after this weekend.


	9. The Morning After

The alarm clock beeped loudly and 7.00am flashed in bright green lights.

Brennan squinted tiredly at the clock, then reached out, shut off the noise and closed her eyes again contentedly. _I'm using my vacation time,_ she reminded herself. _I've got the whole morning to sleep this off before we go to Maryland._ She pulled the cover over her head, wanting to fall asleep and forget that her head was aching from the amount of alcohol she drank last night.

 _Last night..._ Her mind foggily recalled the events of the early evening, _The club, Mendez, the stripper, the dance..._ She buried herself further in the warm bed as she remembered exactly why she had started drinking so much. _It was better than having to strip,_ she told herself firmly. _It's not like there's anything wrong with what I did - many cultures have a similar sort of ritual. It was empowering, liberating, cathartic..._

The feeling of embarrassment washed over her again, just like it'd done when she settled in Booth's arms after the dance. _Why should I be embarrassed?_ she asked, hoping that her logical reasoning was working better this morning. _I was undercover. I was doing what I had to. It's not like I care what those people think about me - their opinions have no influence on my life and I'll never see them again after this weekend._

Satisfied that she had convinced herself, she took a deep breath and relaxed, ready to go back to sleep, when the thought which she had been carefully avoiding suddenly resurfaced, _I gave Booth a lapdance._

Sighing in frustration at her inability to empty her mind, she rolled over, hoping that a change of position might help. It didn't, as she jerked awake when she felt her elbow collide with something that wasn't her soft pillow.

"Ow."

She sat bolt upright and looked down in shock at the man lying next to her. At first he looked as if he was still asleep, but a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. His eyes slowly flickered open and his smile widened as he saw her.

"You know, God invented alarm clocks for a reason, Bones."

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly, too stunned to think of anything else.

"And a good morning to you too," Booth teased, yawning as he propped himself up on his elbows. The cover slid down as he moved, exposing more of his bare chest, and Brennan quickly looked down in panic at what she was wearing. Finding that she was in her usual negligee, she brought the blankets up to her chest, shifting slightly as she did so and discovering with relief that she was still wearing underwear.

She turned to face him more fully as he continued, "I am here, Bones, because you decided that, out of the two of us, I would be the one to do the walk of shame this morning."

"Walk of shame?" she inquired, still having no memory of the previous night.

"Yeah, you know, where you have to go back to your own apartment wearing the same clothes you left in the night before? And every single person you walk past knows exactly what you've been doing?" He nodded conclusively, "Walk of shame." He flashed her a smile and added, sarcastically, "Thanks for that by the way - my day's just not complete without a little public humiliation."

"So..." she said slowly, doing her best to avoid the conclusion that was staring her in the face, "You spent the night. In my bed."

He laughed, "Hey, this was your decision, not mine. I think I may actually have bruises from where you dragged me in here."

Her heart sank at his words. _I slept with Booth,_ she realised, unsure whether she was horrified at the actual event or the fact that she'd forgotten. Meeting his eyes, she took a deep breath, "We slept together."

Booth raised his eyebrows and said, confused, "Not unless you did something very inappropriate to me while I was asleep." He looked at her with concern, "You okay, Bones?"

Brennan nodded as an immense feeling of relief swept through her. Seeing him sit upright, worried by her silence, she answered unconvincingly, "I'm fine. I just had too much to drink last night."

"Are you sure?" he asked again, voice laced with worry. "I've never seen you drink that much before."

She lowered her eyes, ashamed as to how she had dealt with the situation the night before. "I was just... " She trailed off, not wanting to admit to her partner that he was the reason she had felt so awkward.

Booth moved closer to her, gently tilting her chin up to face him. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, "I know how difficult it must've been for you last night, but I'm here for you, okay? You don't need to drink to put yourself at ease, Bones." He gave her a small smile. "That's my job, remember?"

She met his eyes but then looked away quickly. His hand dropped from her chin as realisation dawned on him. "Oh." A tense silence hung in the air as he tried to think of what to say. Eventually, he spoke, his tone gentle and sincere, "Listen, about what happened last night... As far as I'm concerned you were doing your job. I won't think any less of you, no matter what happens this weekend. If you don't feel comfortable coming with me, then I understand that, and there's no way I'd force you into it." She looked up at him, and he continued, "We're partners, Bones, and I don't want you to feel uneasy around me."

She nodded, grateful for the reassurance, "I know."

He gave her a hopeful smile and raised his eyebrows, "So, are you coming with me today?"

A playful smile spread across her face, "Oh, so now you want me there?"

Booth leaned back against the back of the bed, stretching lazily, "Oh yeah, I love waking up to a beautiful woman thinking I slept with her. What'll I do without you?"

He jumped quickly out of bed before she could hit him and backed away, laughing. Brennan folded her arms in mock offense but couldn't help watching him as he walked to a chair on the other side of the room for his clothes, dressed only in a pair of dark blue boxers. As he began to put his black jeans on again, she asked absently, "Do you not even have clean underwear?"

"You offering, Bones?" he asked with a grin, fastening up his jeans. He reached over into an open drawer and twirled a pair of pink lacy panties round his fingers, speaking teasingly, "They're not really my color but if you insist..."

Leaping to her feet, she grabbed the panties from his hand and stuffed them back in the drawer, slamming it shut. "Why did I ever let you in here last night?" she asked, exasperated.

"Because, if I recall, you didn't want me sleeping on the couch since we were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, so we needed to share a bed," Booth said, shaking some of the creases out of his red shirt.

"I did not say that," she said firmly, hands planted on her hips.

Buttoning his shirt up again, he nodded, "Yeah, you did, Bones. Along with something about the couch being mean to you."

She rolled her eyes. "You still didn't have to agree to it."

Booth shrugged as he pulled his socks on. "Like I said, you dragged me in here. You can be a very controlling woman at times."

Her mouth fell open in protest and she folded her arms across her chest. "I am not controlling!"

He moved past her into the lounge, whispering darkly in her ear, "I didn't say that was a bad thing."

Throwing a robe round her and delving quickly into a drawer, Temperance followed him into the lounge, seeing that he was now putting his shoes on. "Where are you going?" she asked curiously. "Haven't you taken the day off?"

"Yeah, but I need to go get the address from Mendez this morning." He elaborated in response to her puzzled look, "He wouldn't tell us before today in case it got out. He could give Hodgins a run for his money in the paranoia stakes. Anyway," he glanced down at his dirty shirt, "I'd kinda like to get some fresh clothes." He looked back up at her, "Pick you up at noon?"

She nodded, "I'll be ready." Booth moved over to the door with Brennan following close behind. He stepped out into the hallway while she held the door open, pulling the robe tightly round her.

Right at that moment, the front door opposite Brennan's opened and an old man emerged, bending down to pick up his newspaper. Seeing the two of them, he gave a judgemental shake of the head and turned to go back inside.

"Great," Booth whispered under his breath and started to walk down the corridor, keeping his head down.

A mischievous smile spread across Temperance's face as she found just the opportunity she was looking for. Stepping out into the hall, she called with fake sweetness, "Oh Seeley!"

Booth spun round in confusion on hearing her call him by his first name. Before he could say anything, she threw a pair of black silk panties at him, and said loudly, "Maybe you should try these on - they might be more your color."

Seeing his cheeks flush with embarrassment and the old man glare at him with disapproval, she closed the door again with a satisfied smile on her face. Wandering back into her bedroom, she nodded contentedly, _That'll teach him to keep his hands off my panties._


	10. Arrival

At 12 noon precisely, there was a knock on the door.

Brennan walked quickly to open it, noting with satisfaction that she was completely packed and ready to go, so there was nothing that her partner could tease her about. Unlocking the door, she was startled to find Booth leaning against the doorframe, dangling the black panties in her face.

"Thanks for that, Bones," he said, sarcastically, and she couldn't stop a grin from spreading across her face.

"You're the one who said your day wasn't complete without public humiliation," she replied with a shrug.

He lowered the panties and said with a smile, "Yeah, but I could've coped without getting the evil eye from Uncle Fester across the hall there." She opened her mouth to speak but he pre-empted her with a sigh, "You don't know what that means. I know." He suddenly paused as he realised what she was wearing. "Nice oufit, Bones," he said, surprised but impressed.

She frowned, unsure whether he was being sarcastic, "I thought I was supposed to be in character for when we got there?"

"Yeah, you are, it's just..." He forced his eyes away from her tight jeans and low-cut top and gave her a smile. "You look good."

Brennan gave him a small smile in return, before another thought occurred to her and she asked, confused, "Do I not normally?"

"What?"

"Well, saying that I look good dressed in these clothes implies that you don't hold the same view when I'm wearing my usual clothes. Do you not like what I usually wear?"

Booth was deeply bewildered by the sudden turn this conversation had taken. "No!" he stated firmly, and felt a slight stab of panic when she raised her eyebrows. "Yes? I mean, no, I don't not like what you usually wear," he stammered, trying to recify the situation. "It's just this is different and I thought you looked good, that's all. Not that you don't normally, but..." He trailed off, realising that when in a hole, it was best to stop digging. Giving her what he hoped was a charming smile, he said simply, "You look good, Bones. Just take it as a compliment and let's get going."

Before she could argue further, he moved past her into the apartment and swung her bag over his shoulder. He tried to walk out again but she stood in the doorway, arms folded. "I can carry my own bag, Booth."

He sighed, "What was lesson six?"

Temperance cast her mind back to the journey to the strip club the night before, where Booth had continued his "lessons" on how to blend in with the other women, most of which had been completely sexist and against all of her natural instincts. "Let men do all the heavy lifting," she answered, rolling her eyes.

Booth beamed at her. "Bingo. Now let's go."

She didn't budge. "That's hardly heavy lifting, Booth. And it's not like anyone's going to see us anyway."

Clasping his hands together as if in prayer, he said hopefully, "Humor me?"

Unable to hold out against his best puppy-dog eyes, Brennan moved aside reluctantly and a broad smile spread across his face as he strode past her, slapping her ass teasingly on the way out, "That's my girl."

She froze at his slap and glared at him in shock, but saw that he was already heading down the stairs, whistling happily. Taking a deep breath, Temperance locked the door and followed her partner, knowing that it probably wouldn't be the last time he'd do that over weekend.

* * *

"Take the next right," Brennan instructed from the passenger seat.

"You sure?" her partner queried. "'Cause the sea's kind of the other way."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Which one of us has the map?"

"I'm just saying, we're supposed to be staying on the coast and that," he said, pointing towards the set of rocky hills on the right, "Is not the coast. You sure you haven't got it upside down or something?"

"I can read a map, Booth! Now would you turn right?"

Gripping the steering wheel hard in annoyance, Booth slammed his foot on the brake and turned sharply onto the road leading away from the coast. Brennan grabbed the door handle to prevent herself falling sideways and fixed her partner with a disapproving stare when she was able to sit upright again. He carefully avoided her gaze, instead keeping his eyes on the empty road ahead of them.

Checking the map again, she said, "We need to follow this road for another few miles and it should bring us to White Horse Cove."

" _Should_ ," he repeated under his breath and she rolled her eyes, deciding to change the subject.

"What time is everyone getting there?"

Booth checked his watch. "Most of them'll probably be there already. Mendez said to turn up before 5."

"What do we do when we're there?" Brennan asked, trying to sound casual to disguise her curiosity.

He looked over at her with a smirk, clearly not fooled, and explained, "We blend in, Bones. Tonight should be mostly just drinking, but we need to remain alert and stay with the group. I overheard Young and Lopez saying that Mendez hasn't got any drugs for the first night, which leads me to believe that they'll be coming in at some point tomorrow."

She shook her head in disbelief, "How can they expect to get away with importing illegal narcotics?"

"Because they're cocky bastards," he replied with a shrug. "They know there's no way a local cop is going to argue with eight FBI Narco agents and this place is quiet enough to avoid any attention from Homeland Security. Besides, Mendez is smart, despite what his taste in friends may indicate. He knows how to hide this stuff once it comes in, and how to get it to the gang he's working for without getting caught. That's why we're here. We need to catch him red-handed, or at least see where he puts the drugs, so that Cullen's got something to arrest him for."

"What about the rest of them?" Brennan asked.

"They're involved in this just as much as Mendez," Booth said confidently. "They'll help him bring the drugs in and they'll probably all be high as kites by the time Cullen shows up, meaning he can arrest them for possession while we get enough to charge them with intent to supply."

She frowned, "I thought you said dealers never sample their own goods."

He smiled. "Glad to know I've taught you something, Bones." She rolled her eyes and he answered her question, his tone serious, "They don't as a rule, but like I said, these guys aren't the smartest bunch. Mendez himself never uses his own stash, but the rest view him as the dealer, who just happens to be giving them stuff for free."

"Why does he do it?" she asked, puzzled. "Mendez, I mean. If he can do this without getting caught, why does he bring the rest of them?"

"Company, maybe?" Booth ventured, unsure himself. "Plus, he can use them to do his dirty work a lot of the time. He's already had me break the chain of custody on some evidence and drop charges against one of the gang. Figures that if someone ever finds out something's not right, then they can take the fall for it and not him."

"You corrupted evidence?" she asked, shocked.

Booth mentally smacked himself for letting that slip. "I needed to prove to them that I was on their side," he explained, praying she'd understand. "Cullen gave me immunity from all charges relating to what I do while I'm undercover - he knew that I might have to do some questionable things to get them to accept me." He looked over at her. "You know I'd never do it without a reason, right?"

Temperance nodded silently, only now fully understanding what her partner had gotten involved in. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Booth's triumphant yell, "The sea!"

Peering out of the window, she smiled as she saw that the road had curved round over the top of the hills and was now coming down towards a small bay which was cut off from the rest of the coast. Seeing their destination up ahead, she couldn't resist saying smugly, "I told you this was the right way."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he replied, giving her a cocky smile. "Now stop acting like a genius scientist and start acting like my girlfriend."

"No-one can see us!" she protested.

Booth grinned, "Then call it a personal preference." Smirking at her outraged reaction, he turned the car off the main road and down towards the house by the sea.

As they pulled up outside, they realised it was a lot bigger than it looked from afar. It was built looking out to sea, on top of a solid rock foundation and the water lapped at the bottom of the sheer drop down. The tide was out, revealing a small pebble beach, and a pier jutted out a short way while a speedboat bobbed up and down on the waves nearby. Looking out at the deserted bay, Brennan began to understand why no-one would expect anything illegal to be happening here.

Turning the engine off, they both got out of the car and were met by Jackson Thomas and Heather White strolling up from the beach. Thomas was a tall, well-built man, who Brennan guessed to be in his mid-thirties. His eyes had a similar glint to Mendez's but she could tell that he was not as intelligent as the leader. Her eyes travelled to the woman standing beside him, holding a cigarette between her long-nailed fingers. Her dark blonde hair hung partly over her eyes as she looked Brennan up and down coldly, but Temperance saw her mouth curve in a slight smile as her gaze shifted to Booth, who had now unloaded the trunk of the car.

"Seeley," Heather said contentedly as she approached him. Brennan felt a small pang of jealousy as Booth kissed her briefly on the cheek, resting his free hand comfortably on her waist.

"Looking good, Heather," he replied with a wink before turning to shake hands with her boyfriend. "Thomas." Brennan was surprised as Thomas shook his hand warmly, not minding his apparent intimacy with his girlfriend. Before she could contemplate further, Booth gestured towards her, "You remember Temperance, right?"

Thomas looked over to her with a broad smile, "How could we forget? I enjoyed your little performance last night."

She let a teasing smile play across her lips and met his eyes, "Not as much as I did."

Thomas grinned and gave Booth a congratulatory slap on the arm, "Nice work, man."

Booth looked over at his partner and spoke as he reached into his pocket, "What can I say?" He pulled out the pair of black panties she had thrown at him earlier, and smiled as her eyes widened. "She's full of surprises."

Laughing, Thomas put his hand on Booth's shoulder and led him into the house. Brennan instinctively followed and found Heather walking alongside her, her eyes focused on the men ahead of them. Leaning in, she whispered furtively, "So, what did you and Seeley get up to last night?"

Temperance glanced up at Booth's retreating back and saw the panties still hanging from his back pocket. A wicked smile crossed her face as she thought of the many possible scenarios she could now concoct. Deciding on one that would be especially humiliating for Booth, she leaned closer to Heather and whispered in a low voice, "Well..."


	11. Tequila and Whipped Cream

"Fold."

Booth dropped his cards face down in front of him and pulled off his one remaining sock, depositing it in the growing pile of clothing in the middle of the table. He checked his watch and saw that it was now past midnight.

They had all been drinking for hours, but Rick Young had only recently instigated the game of strip poker which they were all now involved in. Booth had tried to keep himself out of it, wanting to avoid gambling of any kind, but since Mendez had taken the role of the (fully-clothed) dealer, he'd had no choice but to participate.

His, and Brennan's, strategy had been to fold early, thereby keeping the majority of their clothes and also being spared the large shots of tequila that the winner was forced to consume. _It's a good gameplan,_ he thought to himself, realising that he was relatively sober and still dressed in his wife-beater, jeans and boxers. He glanced over to his partner and corrected himself, _It was a good gameplan._

Brennan had stuck to the plan for the first two rounds, but her competitive instinct had soon taken over. Booth looked round the table and smirked to himself when he saw that most of the rest were already in their underwear, staring daggers at his completely dressed partner. He focused his attention back on the game, finding that Anderson and Brennan were the only two left in.

"I will see your pants and raise you my top," she said confidently, her words slightly slurred by the amount of tequila she had won so far.

Anderson laughed, "I will raise you my shirt."

"Then I," Brennan continued, shaking her finger at him while Booth tried not to laugh, "Will raise you my bra."

A few of the men round the table whistled, and Anderson smiled broadly, "Okay, let's see what you got."

"Ladies first," she replied innocently and her inebriated opponent spread his cards on the table, not realising what he'd done until the rest of them began to laugh.

"Flush - all Spades," he said triumphantly.

A smug smile crossed Temperance's face and she placed her cards out slowly, "Three Kings and two Queens. Full House - I get your clothes."

Anderson grumbled as he stripped off, leaving him sitting there in only his white underpants with a scowl on his face. Brennan finished her fifth tequila with a grimace, then smiled brightly, "Play again?"

Booth was frankly quite impressed by her poker capability when she was this far over the limit, but Jackson Thomas whispered moodily in his ear, "Maybe you shouldn't have brought this one. Takes all the fun out of it."

Looking round the rest of the group, he saw that most of them seemed to share Thomas' point of view. Not wanting to arouse any kind of suspicion or hostility towards his partner, he spoke loudly, "Alright, I'll play again."

Mendez raised an eyebrow, "Rest of you in?"

They all reluctantly agreed, despite having gone head-to-head with Brennan before and surrendering most of their clothes. The cards were dealt and exchanged, but Booth was not surprised when everyone else folded on the first round, giving up any remaining stockings and socks. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Brennan and said firmly, "I'm in."

She gave him an enigmatic smile and simply said, "My left shoe."

"My wife-beater," Booth replied, trying not to show any emotion.

She narrowed her eyes, "My right shoe."

He responded quickly, "My jeans."

She checked her cards again, " _My_ jeans."

"My boxers," he said, praying that she didn't win.

"My top," she countered with a broad smile, hoping that she did win.

Booth held up his hands, "I'm all in. Let's see you."

Temperance gave him the same smug smile as she had previously given to Anderson and laid her cards out, revealing four Aces and a five. "Four of a Kind," she said with satisfaction, then added teasingly, "Let's _see_ you."

"Whatever you say," he answered with a shrug and placed his cards down one by one. Her smile widened when she saw he only had a four of clubs, but it quickly faded as he produced a five, six, seven and eight of the same suit. "Straight Flush beats Four of a Kind," he said with a grin and smiles broke out around the table when they realised Brennan had finally lost.

Glaring at him, she removed her heels, jeans and top, leaving her sitting in a black lacy bra and matching panties. Booth's mouth fell open in amazement when he saw her, and he felt a slight pang of guilt for making her strip in front of him. However, he realised that the tense atmosphere around the table had evaporated now that they were all equals again and his guilt was further eased by the extra large shot of tequila that he then had to consume.

As he threw away the lime rind, he saw Rob Anderson coming out of the kitchen, holding a tall white and red can in one hand and the empty tequila bottle in the other. "Okay folks, time for Spin the Bottle!" he shouted, walking unsteadily back towards the group.

Booth rolled his eyes but Anderson's proposal was met with a drunken cheer from the rest of those gathered around the table, including Brennan, who he guessed had no idea what Spin the Bottle was. Anderson cleared his throat to sniggers from the others and explained grandly, "One person spins the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to lick this whipped cream," He rattled the can for dramatic effect, "Off somewhere on the spinner's body. Exactly where is my choice."

This announcement was followed by more whoops and cheers, and a slurred objection from Rick Young, "Why do you get to pick the place?"

"Because," Anderson replied, full of self-importance despite the fact that he was wearing only underwear, " _I_ got it out of the kitchen." He placed the bottle in the middle of the table, sweeping the pile of clothes onto the floor, and pointed to the now topless Ana Lopez, "All yours, sugar."

As the game began, Booth scanned quickly round the group. Most seemed entranced in the action before them and he noted with a grin that Brennan had a look of mild disdain on her face. Looking over towards Mendez, he saw that he had distanced himself from the game and was speaking quietly to his partner.

While the bottle moved round the circle, he tried to overhear their conversation and caught Sophia whispering quietly, "Do they know to come to the pier?"

"Where else is there to go?" Mendez replied in annoyance. "We're the only people around for miles. Why do you think I chose this place?"

"Just asking," she snapped back. "How many men are they sending?"

"Just the two, last I heard," he answered bluntly. "I'll get my guys to help bring it in, but we'll leave the girls here. Don't want to take more than necessary."

"What time's it due?" Sophia asked and Booth leaned in closer to hear the answer.

"Hey! Booth!"

His attempts were foiled as Anderson yelled his name and he looked back to see that it was his turn with the bottle. Fixing a smile on his face, he reluctantly spun.

Temperance watched her partner spin the tequila bottle, still annoyed by the fact that he was wearing more clothes than her. It gradually came to rest and she felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment when it landed on Heather White instead of her. Brennan's eyes narrowed as Heather got to her feet happily, dressed in a flimsy purple bra and g-string, and moved to stand in front of Booth, a large smile on her face.

She watched as Heather whispered something to Anderson, who then turned to Booth, "The lady would like the vest removed." Booth shrugged and took off his wife-beater, leaving him in his low-slung jeans. Anderson grinned and called loudly, "On your knees." He dropped to his knees in front of Heather, and laughed at the chorus of wolf-whistles from those still seated.

Anderson sprayed a line of whipped cream along Booth's shoulder and up the side of his neck, and Brennan felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy as Heather bent low over him, licking the cream hungrily from his muscular shoulder. Her mouth moved up, nibbling softly on his earlobe, and Temperance couldn't help but feel angry when Booth smiled at the intimate gesture. She trailed her lips back down his jaw, catching any last remnants of cream and finally kissed him firmly on the lips. It took all of Brennan's willpower not to stand up and pull her off him, but she felt relief flood through her when Booth broke away from the kiss, giving Heather a small smile but backing away.

Sophia King took that juncture to announce suddenly, "We're going to call it a night." Everyone turned to face her in surprise and she gave them a knowing smile, "See you all in a few hours."

As she and Mendez headed up the stairs, Booth decided to seize the opportunity. Nodding towards his partner, he said with a wink, "I think we'll be heading to bed too."

Brennan started to get to her feet, but Anderson interrupted, "Not yet you're not." He looked straight at her, waving the bottle. "It's your turn."

Temperance glanced at Booth for confirmation and he gave her a helpless shrug as he sat back down. Taking a deep breath, and hoping that she'd judged the momentum right, she spun the bottle.

It landed on Booth.

"Perfect!" Anderson called, still overly excited. She felt her heart start to beat faster as Booth came to stand in front of her while the other shook the can of cream. Surveying her carefully, Anderson crouched down and trailed the cream from her sternum to just below her belly button. Stepping back with a satisfied nod, he clapped Booth on the shoulder, "All yours, man."

Brennan looked up at her partner and gave him the tiniest nod of permission. He placed his hands on her hips to reassure her and bent over so that his mouth just missed the bottom of her bra. She felt his lips brush against her stomach and her skin tingled as his tongue ran lightly over her sternum. As he continued down, she heard him move from a crouching to a kneeling position but his mouth never lost contact with her body. Temperance closed her eyes as his tongue played teasingly round her belly button, moving expertly in tiny circles. Her body relaxed as he moved lower still, and she released a breath that she never knew she'd been holding in.

To her slight disappointment, the line of whipped cream then ended and Booth broke contact with her, standing up slowly. She opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her, looking at her with concern. She gave him a small smile and saw him breathe a sigh of relief that he hadn't gone too far. He put his arm around her shoulders and spoke loudly enough so that the others could hear, "Let's go to bed."

Anderson made no move to stop them, having now moved on to the next person round the table. Booth gently led Brennan towards the stairs, picking up his discarded shirt as he went and slipping it round her exposed shoulders. She leaned into his chest, overcome by tiredness and alcohol as the adrenaline faded. They wandered up the stairs in a comfortable silence and made their way towards their room at the end of one of the many corridors.

Without warning, Booth suddenly clamped a hand over Brennan's mouth and dragged her into a room off the hallway. She instinctively tried to scream but he held her tightly, closing the door of what seemed like a linen closet with his foot. Panic flashed through her and she struggled desperately against his grip, knowing that her co-ordination and reflexes were slower than his due to the drink.

Fearing the worst, she was surprised when he whispered in her ear, "Shh, Bones. I'm not trying to hurt you, but you need to be quiet. Okay?"

Temperance nodded as much as his hand would allow and he released her. She whirled round to face him, whispering indignantly, "What are you-"

She stopped when she saw that he had his ear pressed to the door and was motioning for her to be quiet. Curiosity aroused, Brennan squeezed next to him in the cramped closet, trying to make out what he was hearing.

She was rewarded when she heard Sophia King's voice down the corridor, "Have you told the rest of them?"

"Yes," came the reply and she recognised the voice as Mendez's. "They know to meet me at 5 downstairs, and to make sure their girls stay here."

"What about Booth?"

Mendez paused and they both strained to catch his response. "I've not decided yet," he said eventually. "There's just something that I don't like about him."

"What's not to like?" Sophia asked with a laugh. "He's done all you asked at the Bureau, he's a lot less stupid than Anderson, all the rest of the girls love him... "

In the closet, Booth gave Brennan a cocky smile and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't know..." Mendez answered, uncertainly. "Maybe it's that girl of his."

Brennan's mouth fell open, insulted, and Booth couldn't hide his smirk. She put her hands on her hips in annoyance, but as she did so, her elbow banged loudly against a hard wooden shelf. They both froze in horror, hoping that the couple outside hadn't heard. Booth leaned close to the door again as they both held their breath in anticipation.

Their eyes widened in panic as Sophia asked, "What was that?"


	12. Eavesdropping

"I didn't hear anything."

Booth and Brennan breathed a sigh of relief at Mendez's reply, but their relief was short-lived when Sophia continued, "No, I'm sure I heard something."

"There was nothing. Now come to bed."

 _Yes, go to bed,_ Booth thought hopefully, pressed against the door. _You didn't hear anything, especially not us listening to your conversation from a closet._

"Let me just check..." Sophia murmured and Booth's heart started to pound as he heard footsteps moving back up the corridor.

He looked quickly around the closet for somewhere to hide, but could barely see anything in the small amount of light that shone around the edges of the closed door. His eyes met Brennan's and a deeply unprofessional thought leapt to his not-fully-sober mind. Putting his hands on her hips to get her attention, he whispered urgently, "Moan."

"What?" she replied, more loudly than he would have liked.

Clamping a hand over her mouth again, he pushed her back against the shelves stacked with towels. Her eyes widened in confusion so he explained quickly, "If they think someone's having sex in here, they won't open the door. Now moan."

He released her mouth and she let out an uncertain "Ow?"

"Like you're enjoying it, Bones," he said quietly, rolling his eyes.

"Ah," she tried, without enthusiasm.

Hearing the footsteps get closer, Booth realised he was going to have to do it all himself. Hoping that she wouldn't attack him, he pushed her harder against the shelves, making them rattle loudly. He covered her mouth with his and then ran his hand up her bare thigh. Reminding himself that this was all completely necessary, he squeezed her ass firmly and was pleased to note that her surprised cry, muffled by his lips, sounded suitably like a moan of pleasure.

He felt her arms move behind his neck and he ran his hand back down her thigh, lifting her leg so it was pressed against him. Unable to balance fully on one leg, Temperance let him pick her up, audibly shaking the shelf and wrapping her legs loosely round Booth's waist. He couldn't stop himself from groaning slightly as her legs encircled him and he tried desperately to think of something serious and depressing to distract his mind, and other parts of his anatomy, from what she was doing.

While she trailed overly loud kisses down his jaw, Booth strained to hear what was going on outside but couldn't make out any footsteps. He silently tapped Brennan's waist and she met his eyes, keeping completely still as they both listened.

Suddenly the door to the closet started to open and, thinking the same thing, they kissed briefly again, breaking apart guiltily as the door opened fully to reveal Sophia and Mendez watching them.

Temperance dropped her legs back down and wrapped Booth's shirt tightly round her, while Booth sheepishly zipped his jeans back up, only just realising that she had undone them. They saw Sophia smiling in amusement, but Mendez did not look fully convinced.

"Couldn't make it to your own room, Seeley?" she asked, lips curving up in a knowing smile.

Booth gave her a lop-sided grin, and shrugged, "She's very demanding."

Sophia laughed, "From what Heather tells me about last night, that's just the way you like it."

Confused by her comment, Booth looked quickly towards Brennan and saw a mischievous smile playing on her lips. Making a mental note to find out what his partner told Heather White, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and winked at Mendez and his girlfriend, "We'll be getting to our own room then..."

Mendez nodded and said with a smile, "Make sure you stay there."

Booth caught the underlying threat and he returned the nod in acknowledgement, as he led Brennan down the corridor to their room. Once inside, he looked back down the hall before closing the door, seeing that Mendez had watched them the whole way.

As soon as the door closed, Booth turned to face his partner and spoke quietly, a look of disbelief on his face, "You know how to lapdance, but not how to moan convincingly?"

Her mouth dropped open and she protested firmly, "Firstly, last night was not a lapdance but a recreation of the mating ritual of the Bolivian Sanga tribe."

"Looked like a lapdance to me," he muttered under his breath as he moved to close the curtains.

Brennan followed him round the room, ignoring his remark, "And secondly, it happens that I am not gratuitously vocal during intercourse, so I have never felt the compulsion to "moan convincingly" as you put it."

He turned to face her, impressed yet slightly scared that she could still string a sentence like that together while inebriated. "You're saying you don't make any noise during sex?"

"No, I do in response to stimuli," she said, moving closer to him unsteadily, "I just don't find artificial noises conducive to the experience."

Surprised that he could actually interpret what she was saying, Booth grinned and replied teasingly, "So if I want you to moan for me in future, I'm going to have to give you a reason to?"

"Yep," Brennan answered firmly, beaming at him. "But I'm sure you could."

Not expecting that response, Booth's voice caught in his throat as a world of possibilities opened up to him. Swallowing hard, he changed the subject, "The drug shipment's coming in sometime after 5am."

She nodded, "I heard, but Mendez hasn't told you about it directly, has he?"

"No, but I need to be down there anyway," he replied, sounding more confident than he felt. "I'll follow them down and try to get some pictures; I'm not wasting three weeks of undercover work because Mendez changes his mind about me at the last second."

"Isn't that dangerous?" she asked with concern. "What if they see us?"

He sighed. "There is no "us" to see. You're staying here."

"But-"

"No buts," Booth interrupted firmly, but then his tone softened, "Look, I need you to stay here and watch the rest of the women. If anyone else leaves the house, you call me."

"What if they catch you?" she asked again, not confident in any plan formed after a lot of tequila.

"They won't," he replied, looking her in the eyes. "Ranger, remember?"

"Ex-Ranger," Brennan said pointedly. "Ex, drunk Ranger."

He raised his eyebrows and said firmly, "Once a Ranger, always a Ranger." Checking his watch, he added, "Anyway, I've got three hours to sober up."

He sat heavily on the mattress, leaning back against the bed-board and stretching slowly. Brennan shuffled onto the bed next to him, and brought her knees up to her chest, snuggling into the over-sized shirt. They sat there in silence on opposite sides of the bed as the night's events gradually sank in. Neither looked at the other, suddenly very aware of how far they had taken their undercover roles. The awkward silence continued, both knowing that there was no way they were going to be able to sleep with the shipment coming in, and their partner sharing a bed with them.

Taking a deep breath, Brennan looked over to the semi-clothed Booth next to her and asked in a friendly tone, "What do we do now?"


	13. Surprise

Seeley Booth had cramp in his leg.

Trying not to make a noise, he shifted onto his right leg and stretched his left, hoping to alleviate the uncomfortable sensation that was currently filling his calf muscle, and was pleased when he felt the blood rush back to his foot. Checking around him again, he peered back over the rock he was crouched behind and saw that the innocuous-looking speedboat was still making its way across the bay, which was bathed in faint early-morning sunlight.

Leaning back against another rock, he glanced at his cell and was relieved to find no messages or calls from his partner. _They must still be asleep,_ he thought with a smile.

Before he'd made his way down to the beach, he'd verified the location of the rest of the group. Mendez, Thomas and Young had all gone to meet the boat, leaving their respective partners asleep in their beds. Booth had been surprised to find that Sophia King was sleeping soundly, but Brennan was keeping an eye on her just in case. Anderson had also been left behind with his girlfriend, the waitress from the strip club, and they were both sound asleep when he'd looked in.

 _Probably will be for a while,_ he reasoned with a grin, thinking back to the energetic noises he'd heard coming from the bedroom next door while he and Brennan had amused themselves by playing every card game they could think of.

 _Brennan._ His mind leaped back to his partner and the annoyed look on her face when he'd set off on his own, leaving her behind to play watchdog. _Maybe I shouldn't have left her there,_ he wondered, guiltily. _It's not like I'm not going to be able to see if anyone's coming. I should've let her come with me. At least then I'd have someone to talk to while I'm stuck waiting behind a large rock._

He snapped himself out of it. _Don't be stupid._ _She's not an agent; she shouldn't be here at all. She's no good at stakeouts. Other stuff, sure, but not stakeouts. She's better at scientific stuff - squinting, bones, books, lapdances..._

He swallowed hard as he remembered the dance the night before. _It was undercover work,_ he thought, trying to convince himself. _She said it was some anthropology thing. It didn't mean anything, just part of the job. All of this is just part of the job. The lapdance, the kiss, the stripping, the whipped cream, the closet..._

A contented smile played on his lips as he recalled the various events of the past two days, but he forced himself to push them out of his mind. _We're partners,_ he thought firmly. _Nothing more. Everything that's happened, everything we've done - it's all for show. Neither of us want this; we're just playing along till the mission's done._ She _doesn't want this,_ he corrected.

 _Doesn't she? The way she played along tonight, the look on her face when I was with Heather, undoing my jeans in that closet..._ He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. _No. I'm seeing stuff that isn't there. None of that means anything. This is Bones, she doesn't work like that. We're partners, and I'm not about to change that. I don't want her feeling uncomfortable about us working together, and if that means going back to the way we were before, then that's fine,_ he told himself, wishing he believed it.

Focusing his attention back to the pier, Booth saw that the boat had just come in and he crouched forward against, fishing his FBI-issued digital camera out of his pocket. He watched carefully as they started to unload the boat and couldn't help but smirk when he saw that the cocaine was stored in six silver-coloured suitcases, _Mendez always loved a good cliché._

He took as many pictures as he could, making sure to include everyone present in at least one shot, and watched through the camera lens as the boat swiftly departed, leaving Mendez, Young and Thomas to carry the suitcases into a cave towards the opposite end of the beach. Booth leaned forward but they disappeared from view, obscured by the darkness of the cave.

Sighing, Booth sat back, satisfied that he had at least got the location of the drugs and proof that they were involved. Realising that he couldn't get caught with the camera, he tucked it carefully under a rock, intending to come back for it when he'd contacted Cullen. Suddenly, he froze when he heard a noise behind him.

His eyes flashed down to the cell that was lying on the ground and saw, too late, that there was a message from Brennan. There was another movement behind him and he heard some rocks tumble down. Cursing under his breath, he pressed himself close to the rock, edging away from the direction of the house, where he was sure the person had come from.

More pebbles tumbled and Booth tried to keep his breathing silent and under control. He felt for his gun and slowly drew it from the holster on his hip, afraid that any sudden motion would draw the attention of the person behind him. Glancing quickly back to the beach, he saw that the men hadn't yet emerged from the cave and so decided to take the only chance he might have.

Clicking the safety off the gun, he edged further round the rock, so as to be out of sight from the house, and then sprang to his feet, spinning round to face his attacker.

The seagull promptly flew off, scattering pebbles as it went.

Booth breathed a sigh of relief and dropped back down behind the large rock, glad that no-one had seen him pull a gun on a bird. _Better than a clown,_ he thought optimistically as he picked up his cell and saw that the message from Brennan read, "Sophia woke up, went to bathroom then stayed in room. All others asleep."

Feeling his heart-rate return to normal, he looked back down to the beach and saw that Mendez was now coming out of the cave carrying only one suitcase, with Young and Thomas close behind. Realising he needed to get back before they found him, Booth slipped back the way he had came, retracing his steps back to the house and noticing that all the curtains were still closed on the bedroom windows.

He opened the side door silently and headed upstairs, after checking one of the back windows and seeing that the three men were now walking back up the long path to the house. As he walked along the hallway to his room, he saw that the other bedroom doors were still closed and that there was no sound from the women within. Glancing down the corridor one final time, Booth went back into his own room, smiling at the success of the plan.

His smile immediately vanished when he saw Brennan lying face down on the bed, completely motionless, with her hands cuffed behind her back.

Panic consumed him and he rushed over to her, heart pounding, trying not to imagine the worst. "Bones? Bones, can you hear me?" he asked desperately, turning her over onto her back and checking for a pulse. His immediate fear was slightly soothed as he saw her chest rise and fall, only to be replaced by anger when he caught sight of a bleeding laceration on her temple and a newly-forming bruise on her jaw. Glancing over the rest of her body, he felt sickness rise as he saw red marks on her thighs and a rip in her thin negligee.

"Looks like your girlfriend missed you."

Booth started when he heard Anderson's sneering voice behind him but was stopped by the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. "Stand up slowly," he ordered and Booth complied, not taking his eyes off his unconscious partner. "Hands on your head."

Before he could say anything else, Booth turned round quickly, grabbing the gun from his hands and pushing him hard against the wall, his forearm pressing tightly against his neck. Anderson gasped for breath and tried to prise his arm away, but stopped struggling as the gun was held to his head.

Seeing the desired look of fear in his eyes, Booth asked, with barely restrained anger, "What did you do to her?"

His words spilled out in gasps, "Nothing, I-"

Booth pushed harder against his windpipe again and repeated, eyes blazing, "What did you do to her?"

Anderson's face started to turn red from the lack of oxygen and Booth lessened the pressure to let him speak. "Mendez just said to knock her out... That's all..."

He choked as Booth's arm cut off his air once again, and flailed weakly. Ignoring his whimpers, Booth asked again, raising his voice, "How the hell does she get bruises on her thighs from you knocking her out?" Anderson didn't try to talk and Booth pressed the gun harder against his temple. "Answer me!"

Loosening his grip, he allowed Anderson to speak croakily, "I didn't touch her... I tried to... but she kept kicking me... I just knocked her out... I swear..."

Looking him in the eyes, Booth realised he was telling the truth, but didn't move the gun from his head. The thought of Brennan lying unconscious on the bed behind him flashed through his mind and it took all his self-control not to pull the trigger. Instead he kept his voice low, asking coldly, "Why did you do this? What did Mendez tell you?"

Anderson made no response, but Booth's eyes widened in fear as he suddenly heard Mendez's cruel voice answer from behind him.

"That you're a lying son of a bitch who's going to get what's coming to him."


	14. In Too Deep

"You think I wouldn't find out you were spying on me?"

The shout echoed in Brennan's confused mind and she was unsure if she was dreaming still.

"You were lying from the beginning."

The voice continued and she wondered if he was talking to her.

"You're going to die for this."

Brennan briefly thought that she was dead, and that she was remembering the last thing she heard.

"I told you what would happen if you lied to me."

The fog in her brain began to clear slightly, enough so she could make out the sound of blows falling.

"And I'm going to make it slow and painful."

She heard muffled groans of pain and contemplated whether they were her own.

"When were you planning on calling Cullen and telling him everything his little lackey's seen?"

Her mind cleared further and she realised that she was lying on a cold floor somewhere.

"Or were you going to keep lying to us for a while longer?"

Shifting slightly, Temperance found her hands were still bound together and that she was lying on her side.

"Did you enjoy playing along?"

Another groan answered the question and she was now alert enough to know that it wasn't her own.

"Enjoy your little walk on the wild side, before crawling back to Cullen?"

Ignoring her throbbing head, she opened her eyes slowly and was met with artificial light shining down from above.

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"Pretty damn."

Surprised at the bold reply, Brennan squinted away from the bright light in time to see Mendez punch Booth hard across the face. Blinking in confusion, her eyes focused on the scene in front of her and she saw that Booth was on his knees at Mendez's feet, badly bruised and being held upright by Thomas and Young.

Too dazed to speak, she could only watch as Mendez bent close to her partner, grabbing him by the collar and speaking with a cruel smile, "Do you remember what I said I'd do to you if you lied to me?"

Booth met his eyes and answered defiantly, "Write me from jail?"

Mendez's mouth tightened and he backhanded Booth viciously, causing his head to snap to the side. Temperance sat up as best she could, feeling the room spin as she did so, and called weakly, "Stop it!"

Hearing her shout, all four men looked over towards her and Brennan felt her stomach turn as she saw the injuries Booth had received. A dark smile played across Mendez's lips and he grasped Booth's hair, asking menacingly, "Do you want to tell her what's going to happen to you?"

Booth pulled away and spoke with authority, "Leave her alone. She's got nothing to do with any of this."

The leader raised his eyebrows, "Oh really? So it wasn't her who was keeping watch at the house while you followed me?" He laughed at his shocked expression. "Sophia's been keeping tabs on you since we found you in the linen closet. Your girl's not the only one who can play at watchdog."

"She doesn't know anything," he tried again, desperately. "Just let her go."

"To go running to Cullen? No, we kill the both of you. But first," he said, with a grin, "I'm going to keep my promise." He motioned to Thomas. "Start with the arm."

Temperance watched in confusion as Thomas unlocked the handcuffs from one of Booth's wrists while Young held him in place. He tried to lash out with his free arm, but Thomas gripped his wrist firmly and twisted it hard behind his back. Booth gritted his teeth against the pain and instinctively bent low to the floor, trying to relieve the force on his arm. Brennan yelled again, "Stop it! You're going to break his arm!"

Mendez chuckled, "Not just his arm." He addressed Thomas, "Make it slow."

Thomas slowly and torturously twisted his wrist further round while Booth closed his eyes, biting his lip hard to stop himself crying out. Unable to watch, Brennan spoke loudly, hoping to reason with Mendez, "Cullen knows we're here. If anything happens to us, he'll know you're responsible."

She got the reaction she was looking for as Mendez stepped away from Booth, walking towards her. Glancing back at her partner, she saw that Thomas was keeping a firm grip on his arm, but not twisting it further.

Her attention was drawn back to Mendez as he spoke confidently, "I've been an agent for fifteen years now. Do you really think I don't know how to kill someone and make it look like an accident?" He elaborated tiredly, as though he'd done it many times before, "Your bodies will be dumped in the sea, and if anyone finds them, they'll think the injuries were from hitting the rocks." He looked back to Thomas. "Keep going."

Thomas did as instructed and Booth let out a strangled scream as his arm was wrenched harder. Knowing that it was nearly broken, Temperance shouted warningly, almost as a threat, "That'll cause a diaphyseal spiral fracture of the humerus."

Confusion flashed across Mendez's face but, unwilling to admit ignorance, he motioned for Thomas to continue, shrugging in reply to her exclamation, "Sounds painful."

"Wait!" she cried again. Seeing the agony on her partner's face, she tried desperately to simplify, imagining she was talking to him alone in the lab, "Spiral fractures aren't caused by collision with rocks, they involve a force being exerted on the bone... " Mendez's expression remain blank and she met his eyes, speaking sincerely, "They'll know that you broke his arm."

There was a tense pause as her statement sank in. Brennan kept her eyes fixed on the leader, hoping that he'd stop Thomas from finishing the job.

The silence was broken by a loud gurgle of water from somewhere in the room, and Mendez checked his watch with a sigh, "Tide's coming in."

He signalled to Thomas and he released Booth's arm, cuffing it again behind his back as he gasped in relief. The relief was quickly replaced by bewilderment on both Brennan and Booth's parts as Young and Thomas began to climb up a ladder towards a hatch in the ceiling of the room where the bright light was shining down from.

Mendez too walked towards the ladder, explaining calmly as he went, "This house was owned by a wine merchant who used it to import wines from Europe. He needed somewhere to store the wine and, against the architect's advice, he had a cellar built into the rock below the house. But when they built it, they apparently weakened the rock, and so the lowest room floods every time the tide comes in." He gestured grandly with a wicked smile, "Welcome to the lowest room."

Booth and Brennan struggled to stand as he climbed up the ladder, leaving them in the empty stone room. "You can't do this!" Booth yelled, desperately. "Cullen'll know we're missing!"

Mendez's dark laugh echoed down through the open hatch as the ladder was removed. "When the tide goes out, we will dump your bodies in the sea. Cullen, along with everyone else, will think that you were swept out to sea and drowned. Tragic, really."

A set of handcuff keys were thrown down onto the floor, which was slowly being covered with water, and the metal hatch was slammed shut as Brennan shouted, "Wait!" at the same time as her partner shouted, "No!"

The hatch didn't opened again and their hearts sank as they heard it being bolted shut.

Brennan looked over at Booth and saw that he was looking round in the semi-darkness for the handcuff keys. "Booth..." she began quietly, but was cut off as he started to walk over to where the keys had landed, feet splashing in the water as he went.

Kneeling down, his fingers found the keys and he called out, "Over here." She walked slowly over to him, feeling her bare feet slip on the wet stone and unable to use her arms for balance. Dropping to her knees behind him, she felt a strange sense of comfort as his hands grasped hers and began unlocking the cuffs.

"Booth..." she tried again, but he interrupted her as he felt for the locks.

"He won't want us with too deep lacerations on our wrists - makes it look less like an accident - which at the moment works in our favour." He paused and she heard a click. "Okay, you're out. Now do mine," he instructed, his tone business-like.

Slightly hurt by his lack of concern, Temperance took the keys quickly from his hands and turned to face his back, straining to see in the dim light that filtered through the edge of the hatch. She freed one wrist and Booth cradled his arm, still in pain from Thomas' actions. Unsure of what to say, she removed the second cuff, letting them drop into the water that now reached her hips as she knelt on the floor.

Booth got quickly to his feet and scanned the room, looking for some way out. Still confused by his behavior, Brennan stood up, feeling her head spin as she did so. Booth turned back to face her, holding her chin gently and examining the wounds on her jaw and her temple. The sense of comfort returned as his fingers brushed softly against her face and he asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded and tried to meet his eyes, but he quickly let go of her chin and moved away again, turning his attention back to the room. Bewildered, she asked him in return, "Are _you_ okay? They hit you pretty hard..."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I'm fine, Bones. Now help me look for a way out of here."

Temperance was barely aware of the water lapping at her thighs and stared at her partner, unable to believe how cold he was being. "Booth? What happened before?" she asked quietly, wanting him to talk to her.

He kept his back to her, answering abruptly, "Can't we talk about this later?"

"No," she replied before she could stop herself. Booth turned back in surprise and she walked towards him, asking earnestly, "Why won't you look at me?"

Instinctively he diverted his gaze again, but she saw how uncomfortable he was and looked down at herself, realising she was still in her silk negligee, which was now soaked through. She shook her head, still confused, "Is it this? Booth, you've seen me in less than this all evening... "

"Don't be stupid," he said, unconvincingly, but still refused to meet her gaze.

Brennan looked down again and saw the rip in the bottom of her night-dress. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the marks on her thighs, now almost covered by the water, and she asked, horrified, "Booth, what happened with Anderson... you don't think that I wanted to, do you?"

His eyes snapped up to hers. Shaking his head in disbelief, he asked, "How can you even think that?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think?" she shouted back, her voice echoing in the empty room. "You won't speak to me, you won't look at me - what else could I have done to make you so angry with me?"

Booth's voice softened as he said, shocked, "You think I'm angry with you?"

She nodded uncertainly, feeling her conviction ebb away. Booth walked closer to her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders, explaining honestly, "Bones, you have no idea how many things went through my mind when I saw you lying on that bed, but I swear, anger towards you was not one of them."

"But why..." she began, but stopped when she recognised the look of guilt in his eyes.

"This is my fault," he said quietly, "If I hadn't brought you with me, you wouldn't be in this situation. Anderson would never have-"

She interrupted firmly, "He didn't."

"No thanks to me," Booth replied, sadly.

Temperance gave him a slight smile. "I did manage to hit him with your alarm clock."

He briefly returned the smile, but then shook his head, "I still should've been there. If I hadn't been so caught up in what happened last night, I would've noticed Mendez was up to something."

"It's not logical to blame yourself for the actions of other people," she stated confidently.

Unable to stop himself, Booth finally said what he'd been thinking for hours, "It is when I'm focused more on you than on my job!"

Temperance stared at him in stunned silence. Eventually, she asked quietly, "You're saying this is my fault?"

"No, Bones, don't be ridiculous."

"Then what are you trying to tell me?" she pressed, not fully understanding.

"That we can't work like this," he replied bluntly. "I can't pretend to be this close to you and keep my mind on the case. I wish I could, but I can't."

Part of Brennan's mind begged her to tell him not to pretend but she controlled herself, seeing the worry on his face, and said levelly, "Then we won't. We'll work better if we aren't in awkward situations anymore. When we get out of this, we'll go back to the way we were. Partners, nothing more."

Booth nodded in agreement, and she felt a pang of disappointment as she saw relief pass over his face. He stepped back and it was only then they realised just how high the water had risen. Feeling it lap against her waist, Temperance corrected her earlier statement,

" _If_ we get out of this."


	15. Up or Under?

Booth moved slowly round the room, running his hand along the wall just above the water level, wondering why his partner was staring at the ceiling.

Brennan stood in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling, wondering why her partner was moving round and feeling the wall.

When he had completed his circuit, Booth gave a small sigh and turned to Brennan, asking, "What are you doing?"

"I am trying to get us out of this alive," she replied matter-of-factly.

"And how's that going?" he inquired sarcastically.

Rolling her eyes, she explained, "There's a large amount of iron oxide on the hatch in the ceiling, suggesting it's been in frequent contact with water."

Booth raised his eyebrows, deciding whether the blow to the head had done more damage than he'd previously thought. "Bones, of course it's got wet. The room floods." He splashed the chest-high water for dramatic effect. "See? Flood."

"Thank you, Booth, I can see that," Brennan replied tersely. "But in most places, the tides are semi-diurnal, and so they have both a higher high water and a lower high water. This could be the lower high water."

The beating he'd received from Mendez was already making Booth's head hurt, but she was doing nothing to help his headache. Gesturing helplessly, he prompted, "And for those of us who don't speak weathergirl..."

She sighed, but explained patiently, "The tide goes in and out twice a day, meaning there are two high tides in a twenty-four hour period. Usually, one of these high tides in higher than the other, hence the name higher high water, and the other is lower so..."

"Lower high water," Booth finished, grasping the concept.

Temperance smiled. "Exactly. If this is the lower high water then the water may not rise to the very top of the room."

"Well, how do you know?" he asked, hopeful for a way out.

His hope disappeared when she answered simply, "I don't."

"How is that going to help us?" he asked, frustrated. "We can't just wait and see if the water reaches the ceiling! What if it does?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Brennan snapped back, equally stressed.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Booth asked, "Do you know which way the sea is?"

She put her hands on her hips, ignoring the water splashing against her upper arm, and asked tiredly, "Why would I know which way the sea is?"

He shrugged, "You had it down in the car on the way here. Thought you might've had some sort of sixth sense." Seeing that she was not amused by his comment, he tried again, "Do you remember where the water started to come in from? Which direction was that gurgle we heard before?"

"Why do you expect _me_ to remember?" she retorted defensively, slightly panicking at the rising water.

"Because I was having my arm broken at the time, Bones!" Booth yelled, but then took another deep breath to calm himself. Giving her a quick smile, he said, honestly, "Thanks for that, by the way."

Returning the smile, Temperance gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and then looked around the room, trying to remember where the noise came from. "You were here," she murmured, visualising the scene, "And the sound came from my right, which would be..." She pointed triumphantly. "That way."

"Nice work, Bones," her partner said with a grin as he moved over to the wall she was pointing to. Doing his best to see in the dark room, Booth looked down through the water, searching for the source.

It was Brennan's turn to ask, "What are you doing?"

Not turning away from the wall, he answered, "The wall isn't wet above the water line, so it must be coming in from somewhere below it, and it figures that it would be on the side closest to the sea."

She moved over to help him look, but objected, "What good is this going to do? The water could be coming in through tiny cracks..."

Booth shook his head with a smile, "Mendez said that they weakened the rock when they built this place. I would put money on that meaning some builder got over-excited with his pickaxe and caused a nice big crack in the wall somewhere."

She frowned, "I thought you didn't gamble."

Smiling to himself, he explained, "Just a saying, Bones. I'm not actually going to start betting when we're about to drown- " He stopped and a grin spread across his face as he felt a stream of water against his hand. "Although if we had, you'd now owe me money."

Her eyes lit up, "You found something?"

"Yep."

Moving aside to let her see, Booth's grin faded when she said, doubtfully, "There's not much of a hole there."

"There will be," he said confidently, feeling for the stones surrounding the triangular hole. "Help me move these."

Reluctantly, Brennan put her hands inside the hole and started to pull on the stones. To her surprise, they came out relatively easily as she wiggled them up and down. Looking over at Booth, she asked, astonished by the widening hole in front of them, "How did you know this would be here?"

He shrugged, still grinning, "What can I say, I know shoddy building work. Some poor guy will have been too scared to tell his boss, so he'll have plugged the gap with stones and hoped no-one would notice."

"How did you know the hole would be this big though?" she asked, slightly annoyed that he'd figured it out before she had.

"Water came in quick, so hole must've been big," he replied simply.

Temperance nodded in comprehension, "Of course. The room was filling up too quickly for it to be a small crack, even when forced in at speed, and a room of this size would essentially need a very large pipe to get the water to this capacity in this sort of time-"

"Bones," Booth interrupted before she could continue at length and reiterated, "Quick water, big hole."

Before she could protest, he vanished below the surface and she felt him pull her down too. Under the water, he pointed to the small water-filled tunnel that was now visible through the area they had cleared. It sloped down away from them quickly, along a sedimentary layer in the cliff which had been inadvertently cracked open by the builders.

Booth resurfaced and she followed, opening her eyes to see him smiling happily at her. "We've got a way out!"

Temperance did not return his smile. "No, we haven't," she replied, more bluntly than she had intended. Seeing him frown, puzzled, she elaborated, "We don't know how wide it is. For all we know, it could narrow before it reaches the ocean. And even if we can fit through, we could be deep below the surface."

He shook his head, "No, I was conscious when Mendez brought us down here. It's not too far, we could easily swim back up."

"Not with these injuries," she stated firmly.

Annoyed by her pessimism, Booth argued, "We're fine - they're hardly life-threatening."

"Our bodies need all the oxygen they can get at the moment. If we hold our breaths for a long amount of time, we currently have a greater risk of passing out."

"If we stay here, we have an even greater risk of dying!" he yelled, giving into the fear in his gut. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather avoid that option."

"Oh, and I'd rather die, would I?" she shouted back, but was cut off as the water reached her mouth while she was speaking. Caught by surprise, she coughed loudly, but more water moved into her mouth. Quickly, Booth lifted her up by her shoulders, raising her head and neck back above the water level and allowing her to cough successfully.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

Brennan nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist to make them the same height, and managed to speak between deep breaths, "What are we going to do?"

Booth met her eyes, seeing that her fear mirrored his own. Uncertainly, he said, "We can either tread water here and hope that it doesn't reach the ceiling, or we can take our chances with the hole." He raised his eyebrows as another possibility occurred to him, "Or we could do both? See if the water rises and then try the hole if it does?"

Temperance shook her head, slowly becoming aware of just how cold the water was. "No. The longer we stay here, the less energy we'll have to swim out if we need to. Plus, we're at risk of hypothermia in this water." Trying not to show how frightened she was, she said confidently, "We'll take the hole."


	16. Going Under

Booth nodded in response to Brennan's decision, not entirely sure whether to be happy with her choice or terrified with what they were about to do. The water lapped against his chin but his partner's weight still rested on his waist, holding him underwater.

"So, do you want to go first?" Temperance asked nervously.

He shook his head and, seeing the insulted look on her face, explained, "You're smaller than me. If the tunnel gets narrower, I don't want you getting stuck behind me."

"You think I'd leave you?" she inquired in disbelief.

Meeting her eyes, Booth said earnestly, "If you can fit through and I can't, then I _want_ you to leave me." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, "Please, Bones, don't argue with me - we don't have time."

Realising that the water was nearly covering his mouth, she nodded slightly and shifted off him, treading water to keep herself above the surface. "Are you ready?" she asked softly, not even sure that she was.

"Yep," Booth said with a small smile. "I'll be right behind you."

Gripping hold of his arm, Brennan pushed herself above the surface, taking as much air into her lungs as she could. Immediately, she then dived under the water, feeling Booth's hands guide her into the hole, and she kicked hard to propel herself along.

Inside the tunnel, she was hit with an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. Dark rocks jutted out from the walls and the ground sloped away in front of her, hiding any possible light that might be coming in. As quickly as she could, she used the sides of the tunnel to pull herself along, groping blindly for any hand holes. She kept her feet moving, trying to swim as much as possible, but her legs repeatedly collided with the top and bottom of the narrow space, forcing her to crawl rather than swim.

Suddenly she stopped, unable to move further forward.

Panic rushed through her and she waved her arms in front of her face in desperation, not understanding why she couldn't move. Brennan could feel the pressure intensifying in her chest as she struggled to free herself from whatever was holding her back. Something closed around her foot and she instinctively kicked out against it, unable to turn round in the cramped space.

However, her leg was then lifted gently by the mysterious object and the panic fell as quickly as it had arisen when she realised that Booth had freed her foot from whatever it was caught on. Kicking her legs briefly in thanks, she headed further and further into the darkness, hoping that the tunnel would end soon.

Going deeper, Temperance felt her ears pop from the pressure and a sudden sense of light-headedness came over her. Doing her best to focus on the tunnel, she continued to swim forward, realising that the walls were slowly narrowing. Glancing behind her worriedly, she saw that Booth was still managing to squeeze between the rocks, but knew that he wouldn't be able to if it got any smaller.

Without warning, the blackness of the hole seemed to lighten and Brennan blinked hard, thinking she was passing out. Her chest ached from holding her breath and her body cried out for oxygen, but she squinted through her stinging eyes and realised that there was indeed light at the end of the tunnel.

Kicking with renewed energy, she swam forward as the light grew brighter, illuminating her way out. Desperate for air, she reached the hole in seconds and found to her relief that she was able to squeeze through.

As soon as her upper body was through the crack in the cliff, Brennan pushed hard off the rock, swimming blindly to the surface. Looking up, she saw the sun glinting through the pale blue water and used every last ounce of strength she had to burst to the surface, ignoring the dizziness that had filled her head. As soon as her head emerged from the water, she gasped loudly, taking in a lungful of much needed air.

Her head spun as she did so, and she glanced around for Booth, thinking that he was right behind her. Not seeing him, she turned frantically in the water, looking all around for any glimpse of her partner. Darkness started to creep into her vision and she desperately tried to stay conscious, but the pounding in her head overtook her and, despite her efforts, her body went limp, slipping below the waves.

* * *

In the cramped conditions of the tunnel, Booth was barely able to move forward.

He'd removed his shoes back in the cellar and he was starting to wish he'd taken his jeans off as well since the heavy material weighed him down, making it twice as hard to kick his legs. To his relief, he'd seen Brennan disappear out of the end of the tunnel a few moments earlier, but he was now trapped as the soaked denim of his pants caught on the jagged rocks.

Unable to bend in any direction, Booth quickly unbuttoned his jeans with one hand, sliding them frantically off his legs as he swam towards the small opening, and the air that awaited him at the surface. Forcing his way out of the tunnel, he began swimming up, relishing the new-found movement in his body. The injuries on his face stung in the salt-water of the sea, but Booth's mind was solely focused on breathing the air again.

Kicking furiously to reach the surface, he felt a sudden flash of horror when he saw Brennan sinking slowly towards him through the water. Instinctively, he grabbed her arm and thrashed his legs harder, dragging both himself and her towards the longed-for air.

They both surfaced and Booth pulled Brennan's head out of the water while gulping down as much air as he possibly could. Any relief he felt after making it out of the tunnel alive quickly vanished as he struggled to pull his unconscious partner to shore, his muscles aching from the exertions of the escape. As he swam, pulling her behind him, his dismissal of their injuries echoed in his mind, _We're fine - they're hardly life-threatening._ Swimming faster, his mind screamed at him, _How the hell could you be so stupid?_

After what seemed like forever, he reached the beach at the side of the cliff, now much smaller because of the high tide. Dragging his partner out of the water, Booth bent low over her, trying to remember his basic survival training. _Danger, gone. Response..._

"Bones? Bones, can you hear me?" he called desperately, but received no answer from Brennan. Checking her over for injuries, his heart leapt when he saw her chest rise and fall as she breathed slowly. _She's alive, thank God..._ He paused for a second, overcome by relief, before he recalled what he was supposed to do now.

 _Recovery position,_ he prompted himself. _Put her in the recovery position and pray she wakes up soon._ Carefully he lay her on her back and knelt at her side, taking hold of her left hand with his right and holding it flat against her right cheek. He then propped her left knee up at an angle and was about to tilt her over when he felt a slight pressure on his hand.

Booth's eyes flew to her face and hope surged through him as he felt her squeeze his hand again, more firmly this time. Letting go of her knee, he moved to her head, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze in return and speaking gently, "I'm here, Bones. You're okay, it's all going to be okay..."

Her eyes flickered open at the sound of his voice and before he could say anything else, her arms were wrapped tightly round his neck, pulling him into a hug, as she sat up, taking deep, relieved breaths. His initial surprise quickly disappeared as he pulled her close in return, resting his head thankfully on her shoulder. Feeling her body shaking as she breathed heavily, Booth stroked her hair, speaking soothingly, "Hey, it's okay... We're out, we're alive..."

Temperance began to feel herself relax, comforted by his presence as her breathing slowly returned to normal. The hug loosened slightly and Booth lifted his head to face his partner, still holding her gently with his hands. "Are you okay?" he asked, his earlier terror still visible in his eyes.

She nodded slowly, her face staying close to his, and whispered, "Thank you."

Booth looked down, feeling the guilt returning. "I'm sorry, Bones," he said softly, "I didn't realise how bad your head injury was... If I'd have known, I..."

Brennan gave him a small smile, and dropped her head lower to meet his gaze. "We're alive," she said quietly, "That's all that matters."

There was silence as Booth met her eyes, moving so close that their lips were almost touching. "Bones," he began, barely audible over the sound of the waves, "What I said before..."

Temperance leaned instinctively closer, hoping he was thinking the same thing she was. But before he could finish, they were interrupted by the mocking voice of Rob Anderson from behind them,

"Well, if it isn't the ones who got away."


	17. Payback

Booth felt Brennan tense in his arms at the sound of Anderson's voice and he hated to admit that he felt the same way.

Glancing down at himself, he realised just how vulnerable they both were as they sat on the beach, injured, exhausted and soaking wet. He could feel the goosebumps on his partner's skin as she shivered in her thin nightdress and he was no better, wearing only his socks, boxers and shirt, all of which clung to his body, making him even colder.

"Put your hands where I can see them," Anderson barked gruffly, holding a gun, and they slowly raised their hands above their heads, inching apart as they did so.

As he turned to face his former partner, Booth felt a sudden glimmer of hope when he saw that Anderson was alone, clearly not expecting to have found them there. _One of him, two of us,_ he thought optimistically, checking over Anderson's body for other weapons. _He's got no way to restrain us, and he can't hold a gun on us both at the same time._

He was snapped out of his thoughts as Anderson ordered, "Get down on the ground and keep your hands on your heads."

Swallowing hard, Booth did as he was instructed, meeting Brennan's fearful gaze as he did so. He tried to signal to her as they both lay on their stomachs on the beach, but felt Anderson's gun press hard on the back of his neck, forcing his head down to the ground.

"I don't know how the hell you got out," he spat, angrily, "But you're not going to live to tell about it."

Feeling the pressure on his neck lessen, Booth raised his head and replied boldly, "We all know you're not going to shoot us. Mendez'll have your ass if you do, and you're too chicken to piss him off."

The sharp kick to his ribs came as no surprise and Booth dropped his head back down, forcing himself to lie still as Anderson's foot collided repeatedly with his side, interspersed with angry grunts from the man standing. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain now shooting through his torso, but lifted his head swiftly when he heard a cry of agony that wasn't his own.

Rolling over, a smile spread across his face when he saw Anderson lying on the ground clutching his knee, while Brennan stood over him, holding the gun and wearing a slight smirk. "Nice going, Bones," he said between coughs as he got to his feet, holding his aching side.

Temperance held the gun firmly on the agent groaning at her feet, but her eyes darted over to Booth as she asked, concerned, "Are you alright?"

He nodded with a grimace, relieved that she had taken advantage of the distraction he'd provided. Quickly he focused his attention back on Anderson, taking the gun from Brennan and pointing it unwaveringly at his head. "On your feet and into that cave," he commanded simply. "Now."

Too scared to argue, Anderson walked hurriedly into the cave where Booth had seen Mendez deposit the drugs earlier, keeping his hands raised in surrender. Once they were inside and out of sight, Booth motioned towards a wall, "You know the drill."

Anderson did indeed know the drill and reluctantly placed his hands against the wall and spread his legs. Catching Booth's nod, Temperance moved forward and thoroughly searched him, her face lighting up when she found a cell phone in his pocket. Satisfied that he wasn't carrying any weapons, she stepped back to Booth, speaking quietly, "You can call Cullen."

Checking that Anderson was staying in place, Booth nodded, passing her the gun with firm instructions, "Watch him. I don't say this often, but if he tries anything, feel free to shoot him. Preferably somewhere non-fatal, but I'll understand if that's not possible."

Brennan smiled broadly as she took the gun and Anderson let out a gasp of protest, "You can't let her-"

"Ah-ah," Booth said warningly as he dialled Cullen's number, "I've got immunity for anything that happens here, so yes, I can."

Knowing he was beaten, Anderson fell silent and Booth spoke briefly to Cullen, "Yes Sir. As soon as you can." He hung up, and Brennan frowned, confused at the short duration of the call. He moved back over to her and whispered so Anderson couldn't hear, "He'll be here in thirty minutes, maximum. He's stationed nearby with the most trustworthy SWAT guys he knows - I just needed to make the call."

Temperance didn't protest as Booth took the gun back off her, but whispered something softly in his ear, a smile on her face. The smile was contagious, and Booth nodded before addressing Anderson with authority, "Turn round."

He did, letting his hands drop to his sides and threatened, "Someone'll know I'm missing."

Booth laughed mockingly. "They'll all be too high by now to notice anything. We've got you for as long as we need you. Now," he ordered, his tone commanding, "Strip."

Anderson's eyes widened, "What?"

"We're both kind of cold, what with nearly drowning and all, so we'd like some dry clothes," he said levelly.

"You have dry clothes," Brennan added to clarify.

He shook his head, "No way."

Wordlessly, Booth clicked the safety off the gun and lowered his aim to his groin.

"Hey, hey, wait! Okay!" Anderson yelled, as he began pulling off his shirt. When it was removed, he threw it to Brennan, who gladly wrapped it round her shoulders, letting it fall to her thighs. Anderson's attention was distracted as she then removed her wet negligee, dropping it to the floor and sliding her arms gratefully into the shirt sleeves.

Booth was also momentarily thrown by seeing his partner soaking wet and wearing only black lingerie and a man's shirt. Pulling himself together, and storing that mental picture, he motioned again to Anderson. "And the pants."

Humiliated, Anderson took off his black jeans, which Brennan took from his hands and carried over to Booth, swapping them for the gun. Moving behind her back, Booth wriggled Anderson's jeans on, relieved to note that his boxers had partly dried, and unbuttoned his soaked shirt, peeling it off his body and wringing it out. He then strode purposefully over to Anderson, twisting the shirt tightly. "Hands behind your back."

Brennan watched, keeping a firm grip on the gun, as Booth used his wet shirt to bind Anderson's wrists together. Seeing the moisture glisten on her partner's chest as he moved, her mind drifted back to his words to her at the beach, and she wondered if he had been referring to their partnership. _Don't be ridiculous,_ she told herself. _He wants us to go back to the way we were. Nothing more._ But for once, the logical part of her seemed to help out, _What else could he have been talking about though?_

She was brought quickly back to reality when Booth walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and talking in a low voice, "I'm going to go move him to the back of the cave, just in case anyone comes past and hears him. Can you stay here and keep watch?"

Temperance nodded mutely, wishing that Anderson, Cullen and all the other distractions would go away so she could talk to Booth properly. Sadly, her wish didn't come true, as Booth walked away from her into the darkness of the cave, pushing a bound Anderson along in front of him. Sighing in annoyance, she settled on a rock, watching the entrance to the cave and irrationally wanting to swap places with Anderson so that she could be alone with her partner.

Reaching a secluded part of the cave, Booth shoved Anderson roughly to the floor, ignoring his yelp as he landed hard on his ass. Leaning against the wall, he met his eyes and spoke coldly, "We never did get to finish that talk about what you did to my partner."

Fear flashed across Anderson's face, but he replied confidently, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He half-expected Booth to walk straight over and hit him, but was surprised when he remained against the wall, laughing softly. "Don't play dumb with me, Anderson," he said, keeping his anger under control, "I know what you tried to do."

"Yeah, emphasis on the word "tried". Bitch wouldn't let me anywhere near her," Anderson said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice that made Booth feel sick.

Taking a deep breath, he said darkly, "I'm already trying to decide whether to kill you, and you calling her that is making my choice a lot easier."

Anderson didn't realise the danger he was in, and couldn't resist pushing further, "Why the hell are you so bothered anyway? You've been working undercover this whole time and Cullen probably just gave you some stupid new girl to bring along. She's only your damn partner - what's it to you if I tried to screw her?"

Before Anderson knew what was happening, Booth's hand was round his neck, pinning him to the floor and choking him. As he gasped for breath, Booth yelled angrily, "She's not just my partner, you son of a bitch! You don't get to call her otherwise and you don't get to touch her!"

Anderson kicked desperately, his face turning red from the lack of oxygen. Booth kept hold of his neck for a moment longer, fire blazing in his eyes, before standing up suddenly, releasing his grip and taking a deep breath himself. The man on the ground breathed a sigh of relief, lying on the floor as the air came flooding back into his lungs.

Booth punched the wall in frustration, unsure whether to be happy or sad that he didn't finish the job. He heard Anderson's gasps turn into mocking laughter and he looked back down at him, leaning heavily towards the latter option.

His words came out between breaths, but Anderson still wore a cruel smile on his face as he spoke, "What's the matter, Booth? You jealous that I touched her before you?"

Without a second's hesitation, Booth punched Anderson hard across the face, knocking him out cold.

Shaking his sore hand, he turned round to walk away, leaving Anderson lying on the cold stone floor, but froze as he saw Brennan standing behind him, her eyes wide at what she had just witnessed.

"Bones, I..." he began, feebly.

"I heard sirens," she stated bluntly. "We should go see if Cullen's here."

She turned to walk out, but Booth grabbed her arm, "Bones, please, we need to talk about this."

"We need to go find Cullen," she reiterated, wishing that it wasn't the case. "Make sure Mendez and the others are arrested." Meeting his eyes, her tone softened, "We'll talk about this later. I promise."

Booth managed a slight nod and they started to make their way out of the cave, his words echoing in both their minds, _"She's not just my partner..."_


	18. Just Partners?

Booth scanned the crowd of people for his partner.

The SWAT team had come in with Cullen, and Mendez and his entire group had been arrested on drug trafficking charges. Booth grinned to himself as he recalled the look of disbelief on his boss' face when he and Brennan had come to meet them, bruised, drenched and half-naked.

He'd then had to show the other agents where he'd left his camera and the incriminating photos of Mendez and the others, as well as where the drugs were stashed. Much to Booth's reluctance, he also had to lead them to where he'd left Anderson, but was slightly appeased by the guffaws of laughter from his colleagues when they saw Anderson tied up in a cave, wearing only his socks and tighty-whiteys.

But as he'd emerged from the cave and watched the FBI swarming all over the beach, he realised he'd lost track of Brennan in all the confusion. Shielding his eyes against the morning sun, he looked all around the rocky hillsides, hoping for some glimpse of her, and was relieved to catch sight of her sitting at the very far end of the beach, away from the throngs of people.

Ignoring the movement around him, Booth slowly made his way along the beach, hearing the noise of sirens fade as he got further and further away from the house. As he approached, he saw that she was staring out to sea, still dressed only in her underwear and Anderson's purple shirt. Booth guessed that she hadn't wanted to go into a house full of prying agents to retrieve her clothes, and he mentally slapped himself for not bringing her some fresh ones when he'd dashed in to grab a shirt.

She didn't look up as he got closer and Booth settled quietly next to her, unconsciously mirroring her body position of sitting with her legs bent and her arms resting on her knees. Since she made no move to speak, he recapped briefly for her, "They've all been arrested. We can't be sure yet, but based on the evidence we've got so far, and our statements, Cullen reckons there's a good chance of a conviction."

Brennan still didn't face him, but asked, "What about the gang he was working with? Won't there be some repercussions from them?"

Booth too faced forward, replying, "They're not going to pick a fight with the FBI over it, if that's what you mean. They'll just cut Mendez loose, probably claiming they weren't involved, and then leave him to rot in jail." He couldn't hide the satisfaction in his voice as he spoke, the pain of his beating at Mendez's hands still fresh in his mind.

Glancing over at his partner, he saw that a contented smile also played round the corners of her mouth. Stretching his arms above his head tiredly, he said with relief, "At least it's over now. Monday morning you can go back to all your bones at the Jeffersonian." He smiled as a thought occurred to him, "Bet Angela'll have a field day when you tell her what happened last night." He pondered a moment longer. "Actually, considering the last time she saw us together, you were straddling me on a couch, she may not be that surprised."

Brennan looked down and said quietly, "That wasn't the last time she saw us together."

"Must've been, because I left that afternoon..." Booth trailed off as realisation dawned on him and he closed his eyes in shame, "Oh God... I completely forgot she was there that night. I never even apologised to her for what I did..."

Temperance glanced over at him, not wanting to relive what he had done when she and Angela had found him in the club, but managed to give him a small smile, "I don't think she's too angry about you coming on to her; slapping you that hard is Angela's way of dealing with the issue." She looked away again as she said, seriously, "She was more angry about what you said to me than what you said to her."

The guilt came flooding back and he said, ashamed, "Bones, you know I didn't mean any of what I said."

"In vino veritas," she replied with a shrug. Booth looked at her blankly and she translated without emotion, "In wine lies truth."

"Well, in cheap beer lies stupid comments that I didn't mean," Booth countered, sincerely. "What I said about your family... it's not even close to the truth. I was just drunk and lashing out-"

"I know," she interrupted firmly, "You told me already."

"Then why-" he began, confused, but she cut him off again.

"What about the rest of it?" Brennan asked bluntly, looking him in the eyes and wanting to hear his answer. "Was that true?"

Booth frowned, trying to remember what else he'd said to her. Thinking back to his blurred memories of that night, his heart sank when he realised what she meant, _"You think I don't know what was going through your mind all the time we were working together? Hell, most of the time I wanted to just throw you down on that big glowy table and do it there."_

"Bones, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you; it was way out of line," he said, honestly. "I never meant to talk about you like that."

Temperance's gaze didn't waver. "Was it true?" she repeated, her face unreadable, "Do you want me like that?"

"On the table?" he asked, taken aback by her question.

"As more than just your partner," she clarified simply.

Booth felt his voice catch in his throat and his heart skip a beat. Scared of ruining their partnership but not willing to lie to her, he took a deep breath and spoke nervously, "Yes."

Her reaction wasn't what he'd expected and he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when she asked softly, "Why didn't you tell me this? Why did you say you wanted us to just be partners?"

Gesturing helplessly, he tried, "I- I didn't want to pressure you into anything. You were uncomfortable around me, and I didn't want to make you feel any more awkward." Getting no response from her, he looked down, embarrassed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in this position. What I said that night... it won't happen again. I know you don't want this."

"How?"

Booth looked up, puzzled by her question, "What?"

A tiny smile played on her lips as she asked, "How do you know I don't want this?"

"Because you don't," he said, bewildered that he seemed to be telling her as well as himself, "You said in the cellar. You said you wanted go back to the way we were."

"No, I said we should," Brennan corrected, meaningfully. "You never asked me if I wanted to."

He shook his head in confusion, but Temperance kept her eyes fixed on her partner. Meeting her gaze, Booth asked quietly, hoping he understood what she was implying, " _Do_ you want to?"

She gave a miniscule shake of the head but it was enough to make a smile of disbelief spread over Booth's face. Raising his eyebrows, he stammered, "You want to try... I mean, you want us to be..."

"More than just partners," she finished, a twinkle in her eyes as she smiled warmly at him.

Amazed at what he was hearing, Booth couldn't hold back his delighted grin. Leaning closer to her, he kissed her gently on the lips and was surprised when she kissed him back harder. Her arms moved round his neck, pulling her body closer to his as the kiss intensified. Feeling her fingers entwine intimately in his hair, Booth slid his hands behind her back, one resting snugly at her waist and the other moving gently down. They both sank back onto the ground, their lips never leaving each other's.

Lying on the pebbles, the kiss ended and they slowly opened their eyes, glad that the beach was so secluded. Looking at the woman next to him, Booth said playfully, "How come you never kissed like that in the closet?"

Temperance smiled in amusement and whispered back, "Call it an incentive."

She met his lips with hers again but Booth asked, between kisses, "To do what?"

Pulling apart, she answered, mischievously, "To do tonight what I told Heather White we did last night."

"And what would that be?" he inquired curiously, trailing kisses down her neck.

A wicked smile played across her lips as she moved on top of him in one practised motion, straddling his hips with her thighs. Leaning down over him, she whispered in his ear, "You'll find out tonight."


End file.
